


Gambler's Fallacy

by Crazy_Foxie



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-26 15:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 81,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_Foxie/pseuds/Crazy_Foxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When presented with a series of false events, one can either apply gambler's fallacy and believe the next result is false like the rest, or believe the next to be true and break the chain. The Gambler of Fate was more aware of this principle than anyone, yet still lost more than what he had bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It'll Take Time to Heal

**Author's Note:**

> This is my backstory for Luxord and should hopefully fill in the blanks to Luxord's life canonically speaking. There will be OCs and stuff in there, but they're there particularly for Luxord's character development. Please also note that this was written before Dream Drop Distance, so there may be some concepts that don't officially make sense but did before the release of the game.

When someone realises that they've already lost the game, it's only natural to bring others down with them. Even if they can't win that round, they can lower the competition for the next one. In a cruel game of luck, it doesn't take long to realise that they signed up for something they shouldn't have.

For me, it was too late.

After what seemed like forever, I let my eyelids flutter open. The burning heat had dispersed in an instant, replaced by the faint glow of dusk. My inheritance, which in my memory had towered over and around me, crashing and cracking its last signs of life, was now only a series of miniature shops along a worn town centre. There were only tiny murmurs to be heard now, not the sounds of music or excitement or chaos.

I didn't know when I had gotten onto my feet. I didn't even know how I was on the floor in the first place. I wasn't aware that my jacket had snagged against the brick wall and had left an ever-growing tear on my elbow. I wasn't even sure if I was all there.

People didn't look at me twice, as though restless beggars were abundant in this area. I instinctively felt for my stubble. Shaving would be my paramount priority once I found out where I was.

I let my hand inch for my inside pocket to retrieve my leather wallet. My hand was shaking mildly as it did so. Everything that was on my person was all the possessions I had now. My fingers touched the cold surface of my dad's pocket watch briefly before finding the wallet. I hadn't done this a lot in the past, counting money. It was all figures and numbers to me. But when I finalised I had a mere thousand munny, I had to double and triple check it.

Sighing, I stuffed it back where it belonged as I tried to find out the best place to go to first. I settled with the jewellery shop, with its colourful appearance and rather attractive shop attendant.

"Hey, are you a man with taste or are you buying for a friend?" The girl leaned over the counter as she spoke, intent on the marketing I suppose. Accessories and the like were suitable for someone with six visible piercings.

I dismissed both ideas with a shake of my head. "As much as a gentleman dislikes claiming so, it's important to admit when one is lost."

The vendor broke into a smile a few seconds later, after deciphering her way through my outlandish accent and mannerisms. "It's all right, people get lost here all the time. Where are you from?"

"Traverse Town, but I don't think I'm remotely close to it."

"Yes, this area's known as Twilight Town," she clarified, her radiant smile losing its shine every second. "I haven't heard of a Traverse Town."

Apparently, what little luck I had that day had run out.

"You've been a help," I said, making a hasty exit. I should have noticed it from the moment I came here. Traverse Town was located on another world, a distant place where I couldn't hope to slink my way back to. Indeed, perhaps it was better this way. A crisp packet of cards to start the first game.

"Hey, hold up a sec!"

I did – it wasn't in me to ignore what a lady had to say.

"If you follow that road up the hill, you can get to Station Heights. There might be a train that'll take you there." The blonde girl grinned, and I returned the gesture. I doubted such a thing existed, but I didn't have the heart to burst her bubble. She was only trying to help, and I appreciated it.

"Thank you for the suggestion."

It wasn't like I had anything else to do in mind, so I did as she had advised. This town was too different from what I was used to, the buildings in bright brickwork and boasting little glamour in the work. Twilight Town, as its name suggested, made things shine in the dying flames of the sunlight. Neon, by comparison, was a harsh source of light.

Station Heights had a fantastic view of the town below. That was given though, especially after the hard climb uphill. I could see the jewellery shop from here, and a large open area where the children played sports, perhaps. I didn't know this place enough to see if an education was encouraged here.

Of course, as I read the train timetable, Traverse Town wasn't listed as one of its destinations. I let out a sigh, relieved. I had reasons for wanting to return, but there were just as many reasons I didn't want to go back. If fate had decided I should be here, then I could get used to it. The slowed-down lifestyle of a lazy afternoon without a worry in the world.

I took a newspaper from the basket as I left the station, tucking it under my arm and taking mild interest in the headline. I had left a lot behind, however I had to fold for now. And reading current news of my first days in this world would pay in the long run.

It was fortunate that I should find a bar en route to the play area I had seen from Station Heights. When I opened that door, I knew immediately the proximity was like home. I felt more at ease already, taking the table in the far corner without a moment's hesitation.

I crossed one leg over the other as I lay the newspaper on the wooden table.

_SCHOOL OPENS NEW LIBRARY_

Apparently, Twilight Town did have a school. The photo in the middle was of the said school with some rather important figures, who I could only assume was the headmaster and his closer colleagues.

"You're early," the barman shouted, and I had to look up to make sure he was talking to me.

"Bad day," I replied, which wasn't entirely a lie. "I'll have a wine."

"Wine?" the man retorted. "Not the usual?"

I couldn't fathom what he could have meant, especially since this was my first time meeting him. Did news spread about town that quickly? Everything was so bizarre.

But I was a master at bluffing. "No, red wine will do today."

The man nodded curtly and was on his way. I let his words pass over me, letting myself believe that he was drunk himself, and turned the page of the paper.

Judging from the headlines, nothing else was remotely useful. I took the time to familiarise myself with names and their photos in the scenario that I would meet them in person, and it was on page fifteen that the barman came to my table.

"Terrible times, eh?" he contributed, setting the wine on the table as he sat opposite me. "I've never heard such rubbish in the papers since…forever."

I looked up, leaning back in my chair and resting a hand on my knee. "Oh? Are there some stories in there that aren't showing the whole picture?"

"Well, start with that library on the front page. Forgive the rudeness, but who cares?" The man slid the wine towards me, and I acknowledged it graciously. "The previous papers kept saying that it's near completion, and now that it's done, even the reporters are getting a bit fed up of the place."

I laughed. "That's not hard to believe."

"And if you turn to the middle…" The man leaned across and fiddled with the corners to find the right page. "Look, more news about that ludicrous Struggle competition!"

I only had to read the first few lines of the article to know what he was trying to get at. "Do you really hate children that much?"

"Whole lot of them are trouble," he elaborated. "The hype Struggle causes makes them crazy. And they get rewarded with a library? I worry about the future."

I took a sip of my red wine. "Ironic coming from a bartender. You sound like a teacher or a politician, or of a background just as respectable."

"I could say the same to you," he countered as he got onto his feet. "I find it hard to believe you're the same person. Is your friend coming later on in the evening?"

I had to bluff again to hide my horror. Had I really been here before without prior knowledge, and with someone else as well? "Perhaps. They said they had a few errands to run." I was careful not to slip up on the unknown person's gender.

The burly man nodded once. "Shame. A friend can make even the worst of days that much better. If you need someone, I'll be over there cleaning the dishes."

"Thank you for the support, but I think this is something I have to sort out for myself. You wouldn't believe it." I flashed a grin before drinking a little more of the wine.

"Fair enough. Not sure if it's a good thing, but thank goodness it's Friday." He raised an eyebrow and went on his way to the counter.

I waited for him to be out of earshot before I set my wineglass down and rapidly got to the front page again. I ignored the smug teachers and the giant headline, bringing the paper close to my face to read the date at the top.

Sure enough, as the barman said, it was a Friday. Things were getting weirder by the second. It seemed only yesterday that I was reading Sunday's paper with my morning tea. I didn't know if the die was loaded or not.

When I read the date again, the whole date, I felt my grip on the paper tighten. Two whole years. What was I doing in the two year gap?

My breaths were shallow as I steadily replaced the paper back onto the table. I still couldn't believe it. Had I been missing for two years and no one wondered where I was? Or maybe they did wonder, but gave up soon afterwards. That was more likely – even I didn't know where I was.

I brought both of my elbows onto the table, letting one hand support my head as I gazed out the window. A lot could have happened in two years, explaining why the barman may have known me.

Back at home, they probably thought of me as long dead now. Two years would be too long to wait and hope, and given the circumstances of what I last remembered, there was good reason. How old would Charles be now? Would my mother still be around?

I let my eyes close again. It was too late for amends now and I leapt into the wrong chances. Would I have lived longer if I stayed with them? If I was dead at the moment, since I certainly wasn't living, that would explain why I was so disorientated.

It would take time for all of us to heal, but we will make it. We all looked out for each other, didn't we?


	2. Two Pair

"And this question too."

I rubbed my eyes as I sat up into a more comfortable position. "Okay then, what's this one?"

Charles handed his textbook to me for the umpteenth time and pointed to number eighteen. "It's not like I don't know what to do, it's just that it's too confusing."

"But we've done this sort of question before," I mused as I read through the question. "Can't you try it out for yourself?" I handed the book back to my brother, and he pouted.

"I'll give it a go." Charles rolled onto his front as he clicked his pen. He set the textbook in a convenient place and started writing out the equations, muttering them under his breath. I stifled a yawn as I stole a look at the time. Half past nine.

"Okay, I've written them down now. Which one shall I do first?" He looked at me with expectant eyes. Simultaneous equations weren't exactly difficult, but my brother had a talent in making things out to be a lot more complicated.

"Whichever you think is easier. You're the one in charge of this question."

He nodded, then went back to his work. "Elimination. You'll still help me out though, right?"

"Only if you go disastrously wrong."

Having a brother three years younger meant that Charles admired me more than anyone else. He followed my example, but he also knew more about me than everyone I ever talked to. Even our parents didn't know the many secrets that we shared with each other. It also meant that I had the obligation to look out for him and make sure he stayed out of trouble. And that included doing something about the detention he had received for bad maths homework.

"So then, I'm supposed to multiply these equations, right? So I can multiply the first one by two and the other one by…five?"

I leaned over his shoulder just to make sure. Charles was never good with one formula, let alone with two. "Or you could just do the first one by three and the second by two. If you look at the values for b, they're closer together."

Charles took a moment to pretend to check. "Why didn't I see that?"

I tilted my head a little. "You have to look at the whole problem if you want to get somewhere. And doing the obvious thing won't always be the easiest. Come on, you can do this."

I got onto my feet as Charles continued with his question. I was always patient with him, although that didn't necessarily mean my body was also. My legs found it hard to get comfortable on the wooden floor, so I opted for the bed.

"When's it due in?" I asked, scooting myself onto the bed so my back leaned against the wall with my legs outstretched.

Charles didn't reply immediately, nor did he look up. "Miss Jones said she wanted it whenever I could get it done, but she had that usual scary look. I thought it would be best to get it done as soon as possible."

It was exactly for that reason I was glad he didn't share the same laid-back attitude I had. If that had been me, I would have purposefully delayed it until she forgot. I would have done anything to do the work at the last minute. That was just the way I got things done. To the point that no one bothered to call me by my full name. Even I didn't introduce myself properly anymore. If someone was to ask for Albion, the only response would be hushed murmurs, shaking heads and apologies.

Instead, my name was appropriately shortened to an already existing word. It didn't make it sound any less outlandish, but it was a nickname that had grown on me. One word that summed up my character and my attitude towards life, work and the rest of it.

"Eon."

Charles carefully placed his pen in the middle of his exercise book, letting out a sigh. His body was turned slightly away from me, but I had seen that too many times to know that something was wrong.

"What is it?"

He grimaced. "It's nothing really."

"You can tell me." I brought myself closer to him by sitting at the edge of the bed now, leaning across with an arm on my thigh. I also knew all too well he didn't like being too close in moments like this.

Charles nodded, finally looking at me with watery wide eyes. "You know Harry Jackson?"

It was my turn to nod. "You said that he was your science partner. And you sit next to each other in art. Not exactly a friend, but civil enough. Does it concern him?"

"Yeah," he said weakly. "I lied about that. I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't worry about it." It was fairly common for Charles to make up tiny things like that, but there had to be a good reason why he did it this time if he was bringing it up. Things like this had an underlining reason, and if he was admitting it now, it had to be serious. "Why did you lie?"

Charles swallowed, biting down on his lower lip to stop himself in bursting into hysterics. "I didn't want to worry you, so I kept it to myself. But after what happened today, I want you to do something about it. Please."

I furrowed my eyebrows mildly. "I'll see what I can do. But if it's something serious, the first point of contact should be your teacher, not me."

"He won't do anything," Charles protested, shaking his head wildly and finally crying his first tears. "He doesn't do anything, no matter how many times he sees me and Harry's group of friends. He just…" The sentence ended abruptly with a hiccup, and I took that as an opportunity to interrupt.

I should have seen it coming. Unlike me, Charles didn't have many friends who would laugh with him. They were all equally as scared as he was. Unlike me, Charles was an academic failure and hindered everyone's progress. Perhaps that was harsh, but that was presumably what his peers thought of him. Of course he was going to make a few enemies here and there.

"How long has it been going on for?"

He sniffed, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as best as he could. "A-a few weeks, I think. I lied about losing your ruler, Harry's lot broke it. That was definitely last month. Which I'm really sorry about, I didn't think-"

"Don't apologise about the ruler," I cut in once again. Rambling helped a lot in distress, but other times it took the attention of the matter at hand. I didn't want Charles to lose sight of the problem. "Has he ever hurt you?"

I felt marginally better as Charles shook his head vigorously. Bullying was a common trend in this area, where children had the ego complex in thinking they were above the rules. The parents rarely knew that their children did such things, and the teachers, although it was written in their job spec to sit down and listen, were hardly approachable.

Which usually meant it was up to the students to sort out their own troubles.

"So far, the only thing I've heard is that he breaks your things. What else does he do?"

Charles smiled, despite it not being credible to the conversation. "He calls me names and teases me before class. Retard and doofus especially…" He had to muster up his courage to tell me the last one. "And whiny Charlie."

Although Charles was dependent on others a lot, whiny was going a little far. Twelve-years olds these days.

I let out a sharp exhale. "Here's what we'll do. I'll see you whenever I have a free period and during the breaks. Let me know if anything that happens, and then that way we'll have evidence to present the teachers." I beamed, but Charles didn't return it.

"They'll just turn a blind eye."

"Then I won't let them." It was very likely they would, but we had to try. "Neither you nor I are good news as far as the teachers can tell, but if we kick up a fuss, they won't be able to ignore it. I'll bring Tom or someone along too, to make the story more believable."

Charles stared at me, then hope returned to his face. He rubbed at his wet cheeks and laughed softly. "You'll do that?"

"Of course. Did you think I'd laugh and do nothing?"

"No. But I think I would sound stupid. I know I look it as well." He gave a forced smile as he wiped at his eyes harder.

"Forget about that. But you promise to be strong from now on? And tell me everything that happens, even if you feel embarrassed or useless."

A few more tears fell down Charles' cheeks. "I will."

"Good," I said with an air of finality. "Once you've finished, shall we do the substitution part of your homework?"


	3. Window of Opportunity

We walked together to the school just like any other siblings would do. I walked slightly slower than he did, and like every morning, the bell had already gone by the time we went through the school gates.

"The concert is in two weeks' time, can you believe it?"

I looked across at Charles, who was in a considerately better mood than yesterday. It was still hard to believe that the boy jumping on my bed this morning was being bullied. He was too lively for my taste, but a brother that I couldn't be without.

Why other people in his class found amusement in making others' school experience a misery I could never understand. We just had to pull through it together.

"Concert?"

Charles grinned. "You know, the concert my year's performing. I've been practising for it at home."

The violin. The screechy instrument where, if he wasn't careful enough, let out such a sound that even our normally unresponsive dad winced in pain. And a few nights ago, our dad actually confiscated the guilty instrument because Charles was practising until late.

"I hope I get better," Charles continued. "It's not that hard, but I always screw up."

I broke into a smile. "It's not all bad. I think you're improving, even if Dad doesn't think the same. You just need to keep at it until his eardrums burst."

"I don't think he would be happy." Charles looked across at the clearing, then increased the distance between us. "I'm this way. You'll come to see me during the break, right?"

I nodded and waved him off. He ran to registration in the other block, I wandered up the stairs and down the corridor to mine. That was the way it was – I had more late marks than everyone else in the school combined. I took pride in them, and the form tutor had given up trying to tell me to leave the house earlier. I simply didn't see the point of meeting their agenda.

Humans were a naturally lazy race. Animals hunted for their food, humans simply got them from the market. To me, there was no point trying to bury that instinct.

I was in no hurry for an hour of history. Even when I arrived five minutes late, I didn't pay any attention to what Mr Barry had to say about agriculture back in the days humans were primitive. I didn't even know that Traverse Town used to be as backwards as that. It was all technology from one end to the other.

It was fifty minutes in when the school secretary poked her head round the door. She waddled to the teacher, whispered a few things and turned to face the class. Mr Barry looked considerably miffed.

"Apparently, there's a Jack Ludor here." The secretary wasn't buying her own statement either.

People round me shook their heads, and someone behind me even whispered the name with disgust. It didn't hold much meaning to me whatsoever, other than no one in our class was called that, but the man hovering at the door got my attention.

He was tall, I could tell from here. Horn-rimmed glasses shone in the sunlight, which poured from the window at the end of the corridor. He was dressed a suit so formal that Mr Barry's normally creaseless one was shabby in comparison. He had a foreboding air about him that couldn't compare to anyone else I knew, not even the students who bullied people for fun.

As an adult, he was on a different scale.

And he was staring right at me.

At the end of the lesson, I was still thinking about the man. The secretary must have told him that Jack Ludor didn't exist, but I still saw him lingering at the door for the remaining ten minutes. Tom had picked up on the suspicion of it all too, and it had reassured me to think it wasn't just me thinking it was strange.

We decided together that we would teach him the rules around here, especially since it was break now. After saying a few words to the rest of our friends, the two of us were the first ones out the door.

Sure enough, the tall man was still lingering at the door. He looked up from the floor and stared at me again. "Jack."

I didn't have time to react as he grabbed hold of my wrist and pulled me down the corridor. I struggled to keep up and not fall flat on my face. All thoughts of teaching the stranger the way things worked were out of the window, and instead my brain was filled with questions. Couldn't this count as assault, for example? "Jack? I don't know what you're talking about."

"We're only having a chat. Harmless."

He let go of my wrist at last, and I realised that we were at the end of the corridor. The window was my only way to escape without crossing the man. I looked past him at Tom, who shrugged. In less than fifteen seconds, our plan had dissolved and now we were both equally lost. Our classmates piled out, their vacant expressions and murmurs a considerable distance away.

"I think it would be for the best if you reconvene next lesson," the man replied for me, never letting his green eyes off me. "We may be here for a while."

Tom looked between us in disbelief, but I reassured him with a firm nod.

I waited for him to leave before going for the offensive. "The name's Eon. I'm not who you think I am."

The man made to say something, then he shrugged. "Is that what she called you? An appalling name choice."

I didn't elaborate on the subject. "Why are you here? Why did you pick me out of the crowd?"

"Don't I get to introduce myself?" He took of his glasses and smirked at my silence. "Call me Joker. Naturally, it's an alias. Don't take it the wrong way."

"Why would I take it the wrong way?" I said icily, grabbing the windowsill with both hands and sliding my body onto the flat surface. "You're only accusing me of being someone else and equally keeping your identity secret. Have you plucked any other students out of class like this?"

Joker laughed, and I felt myself grip the windowsill harder. It was hard which was more ear-shattering: the laugh or Charles' violin. "Goes with the job description to have a keen eye. Your mother's Sarah, correct?"

I nodded slowly, still suspicious but less hostile.

He picked up on it just as quickly. "Good, you're behaving yourself. How's the family?"

Right now, I wanted to fall out this window and not see this man again. "I have a dad and a brother. We run a shop in the First District and pay rent every month. Anything else? Because if you turn out to be a stalker, you'll be answering to me." I hardened my stare. "And I'm not nice when I'm angry."

"Oh, that's not so good." Joker didn't take notice of the last statements, replacing his glasses onto his nose and glancing over his shoulder. "Did she ever tell you of her previous flame?"

My hands clenched. "What do you mean?"

"Sarah conceived a child with another man. She was selected from the crowd, chosen to continue the Ludor lineage. Thus Jack Ludor was born."

I brought one leg up onto the sill, grinning. "You must have made a mistake. I have a brother! We're blood related, both with the same parents!"

"Half-brother," Joker corrected firmly. "You have nothing to do with that family, not anymore. It's time for you to fulfil what you were born to."

"I won't listen," I interrupted swiftly. How did he expect me to believe something so absurd without proof? Ever since he came along, things were starting to unravel before my eyes.

"If that's the way you want to play the game." He stepped to one side, and I almost took that as an invitation to leave. "I have the upper hand, don't forget."

I didn't move from the window. I repeated his words in my head a few times before I made the connection that I had to play by his rules. "Why do you think I'll believe you?"

Joker smiled, revealing his surprisingly straight teeth. "Let me tell you something. I'll narrate you the story, and it's your choice if you want to believe it or not. But, if you refuse the invitation, it'll be given to someone else. And, looking at the situation, it'll probably be the half-brother."

I remained silent. If Charles was ever confronted by this complete stranger and told his family was a lie, he wouldn't be able to think for himself. He would most likely let this man manipulate him and tamper with his entire history. That wasn't what any of us wanted.

"Let's hear it."

Joker didn't waste any time. "As I've said before, your father isn't who you're living with. His name's Hadrian Ludor, but for status purposes, he's known as King. The Ludor family have inherited a casino through three generations, you being the fourth. I doubt you've seen it."

I shook my head. "Is it in one of the districts further down?"

"Towards the bad end of town, yes," Joker clarified through a light snicker. "Being the blood relative of Mister Ludor and reaching a mature age, it's vital for you to learn the ropes of business before you inherit the company for yourself."

"Inherit?" I repeated. I had wanted to be an accountant in the family shop since finding my passion in mathematics. It was almost definite that Charles and I would run it together. If I was to be given an entire casino, then what kind of future would that be? "You're putting a lot of risk on whether I accept or not, and if I'm the right person at all."

Joker laughed again, and I flinched visibly. "That's what it's all about. Think of this as a window of opportunity. It's open, but it's up to you if you want to jump through it. As for finding the right person…I have faith in my capabilities."

I slid off the windowsill, to prevent myself from actually fall out of it. "I'll have to think things through. Can you give me that at least?"

Joker reached for his inside pocket and whipped out a card. "Five of Clubs. I'll give you five weeks. Come to the Silver Lynx when you accept the proposition."

I chose to overlook his choice of words. I disliked how Joker acted like he knew me, how he had me all figured out in a few minutes. At the end of the day, it was my choice.

"Thank you," I muttered, brushing past him with surprising ease. I couldn't feel my feet anymore, I couldn't breathe. I had to ask Mum, I had to know. I didn't know where else to go – could one person's future change so much over the course of a fraction of life?

"And Jack? Don't mention this conversation to anyone."

I turned my head slightly, still annoyed about the alias. "Why? I can do what I want."

"Hey, it's safety procedures. It's best to keep them in the dark, or the wrong people may find them." He sighed. "If others were to find your origins, they could do unthinkable things to them for all sorts of reasons. It's best to keep that past identity to yourself and conveniently…forget."

"Are you trying to say they'll be in danger of your kind? Even though, according to your story, my mum knows all about me and the risk I bring?"

Joker shrugged nonchalantly. "All the more reason to hide it. People are unpredictable, especially the mothers and when it comes down to trust. She has hidden it for so long; a few more years can't hurt." He slotted the card back into his pocket. "The window's open for five weeks. If you'll excuse me, I have to report to Mister Ludor."


	4. The Odds Against Being Eon

The rest of the day dragged, even during the maths lesson that normally whizzed by. Tom noticed my dampened mood immediately, but I didn't have the courage to tell him everything I had on mind. I merely told him that Joker was a convicted madman, and that the things he said weren't meant to hurt but they did. In a way, it put the matter into perspective.

I spent the lunch hour on my own, missing out on the afternoon registration entirely. I was concerned about the five weeks to come, and whether I could face my 'family'. Were they really mine, like I had originally thought for fifteen years?

The more I thought about it, the more I couldn't see my family the way I had before. The shop was meant to be the family business, where I would be in charge of accounting and Charles the sales (once his social skills improved a bit). Our dad encouraged that fact more than anything, letting us help out over the weekends and see the profits of the month. If he had known about me, then would that have been different? What was the point of flouncing a future I couldn't have?

Or were they all in on it, lying to me for all these years and assuming I would simply accept it all?

I still had disorganised thoughts by the time I met up with Charles after school and walked him home. His nose was slightly hooked, his long eyelashes different to mine – both stunning features that matched our mum at every angle.

But me, as I stared long and hard at myself in the bathroom mirror after coming home, I didn't have much of Mum's features at all. And now I failed to see even one thing about myself that resembled Dad. The three of them were brunettes, I was platinum blonde. My eyes were considerably narrower than Charles, the blueness more than a few dials brighter than my dad's. I hadn't given much thought to why I was so different – I had assumed that the genetics must have messed up in the process. Or that the traits of my grandparents or my great grandparents had managed to skip the generations.

But now, I could only see a stranger when I saw myself.

"Why didn't come to see me today?" Charles asked as he got the glasses ready for dinner.

I sighed. I had forgotten completely about the promise I had made to him, and now I had the great joys of lying my way through. I couldn't bring myself to tell him the whole truth, and it wasn't because of Joker's warning. "I had some urgent errands to run." I leant closer to him so our parents wouldn't hear what I said next. "Did something happen?"

"Not really," he murmured. "Just the names, but that's all."

I laughed softly. "You know you're better than that. Come on, let's get some food in there." I punched his stomach playfully, almost making him drop the glasses in surprise.

"Eon, I hope you're not teasing him." Mum gave me a scowl, and I knew that she didn't approve of the potential accident.

"He wouldn't even be fun to tease," I reassured her, steering her away from the suggestion she had conjured up herself. More importantly, I didn't want her to believe that Charles was a victim of bullying in school, and a simple trigger conversation like this could lead straight to that thought. And a lecture wasn't what I wanted right now.

Dad passed me the water jug, and I had no choice but to take it from him. His face was rounded, mine was gaunt. His facial creases were all wrong, and it made me frustrated not to find any sort of similarities with him. "You and I both know the truth. Charles is the baby after all, and you're the one who makes him strong. We both know he needs toughening up."

He pushed me on the shoulder gently as I went to the table.

"Matthew!"

I exchanged grins with him as I poured water into one of the glasses. "You've made Mum angry now! You're in trouble."

Dad rolled his eyes. "You're not going to stick up for me?"

My smile didn't waver, even as my thoughts did. This banter didn't have the joys that I remembered. It was all made-up, completely played-out. The humour had turned sour over a single day. "Not this time round. You did it all by yourself."

"So much for the caring big brother. You have to look after your dad from time to time."

I almost splashed water down my front as I turned too quickly. It was such a normal evening, the bickering amongst family members and sticking up for each other. Charles was the world to my mum, and I had to look out for everyone, it seemed.

But the words stung, even though they weren't meant to. My grin earlier was only seconds ago, but I wasn't even sure if that was me anymore. Was Matthew even my real dad? He didn't have the right to say that to me. He must have known, the same way my mum also knew the danger of me. Or else why would they have married? How else could she explain my existence? What had previously been the ordinary banter unfolded into a drawn-out fantasy, that I had a family that loved and cared for me.

I didn't want to see how dissimilar we were. There was too much evidence to suggest I didn't really belong here. People used to say that we had the same facial structure – I may have seen it once in an unconscious bid to belong, but there was nothing there now. And the sight was beginning to scare me.

When I helped with the washing up after dinner, I didn't feel the usual closeness I had with Mum. We were simply two people, even though she was potentially my only blood relative under this roof. The odds against me being Eon Green were getting higher, and she was the one that made it harder for me. I was running out of options.

"Eon?"

She looked between me and the plate I had dropped into the sink, broken china twisting in the water. My hands were so slippery from too much washing up liquid, and I left them outstretched before me. A hand started rubbing my back; small circles between the shoulder blades.

"Did something happen at school?"

I had to bite my lower lip to stop myself from spilling the beans. If I had to protect my family, my involvement with Joker and the exposure to my origins had to be a horrible secret. But at the same time, I wanted some sort of comfort that I belonged here, not there.

Joker was wrong. "It's been a long day," I chose to reply, picking up the pieces with shaking fingers and leaving them to one side. I hoped it would also quell the storm within my brain and heart, but it didn't have a tremendous effect.

Mum let out a sympathetic sigh. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to. Have an early sleep, then you'll feel better tomorrow."

I couldn't tell if she believed my excuse, or if she was trying to make me feel better. It was so hard how I couldn't say anything to her. And it must have hurt her just as much, if she was feeling what I wanted her to feel. I believed that she knew this day was to come, where I would one day find out the truth. After all this time, had she been dreading this day, knowing that I might take off to claim my future?

Or was Joker just trying to shake me? I didn't know who to trust and what to think anymore.

I nodded. "Yes, an early night would be nice."

The hand on my back stopped, then slid up to my shoulder to force me into my mum's embrace. I didn't pull away, I just stood there completely stunned. I bit on my lower lip harder. I didn't want her to let me go, and I didn't want to leave her either. Even though it was sappy, especially coming from cool and nonchalant me, I repeated to myself over and over I wanted to be here. The family may be fake, but the idle times I spent with them were ones I could treasure.

Mum was the one who had to separate us. "If there's anything I can help with, let me know." She tucked her fringe behind her ear and smiled. The same awkward look that I mirrored, as if we both knew that this conversation was strained and wasn't helping. "Go."

I dried my hands and brushed my teeth in record speed. It was rare for me to get things done in a hurry, but lying on my bed doing absolutely nothing but think made up for it in the long run.

The odds against me being Eon was still in turmoil, but the odds against acceptance were getting lower and lower.


	5. Dealer

The following day I actually managed to fulfil my promise. Like my mum had said, after an early sleep, I found it so much easier to get on with my normal life without it bothering me too much. Five weeks was ideal for me to make a final decision, and it wasn't until later I realised I was glad Joker pulled out that card. I would have panicked if he had picked anything lower.

I didn't go straight to the canteen after we decided our table for lunch. The rest of my friends went on without me, but I made a beeline for Charles and his group of twelve-year olds.

I purposefully made him jump by shaking his shoulder. Playfully, of course. I wasn't deemed as a bully, but it was obvious that I doted on my younger brother, and his circle of friends was aware of it. They resumed to their conversation as I sat with them, and Charles turned on his seat mildly to talk to me more comfortably.

"You came!"

I scowled. "You thought I wouldn't? A big brother doesn't break the same promise twice. So, how are things coming along?"

Charles shrugged. "Nothing big. Actually, they haven't done much at all today."

"That's a good thing, surely?" I remarked after a brief pause, letting a hand reach for my neck. It was surprisingly painful to keep my head down but not too low to make it look like I was sleeping.

"Not really," Charles said slowly. "I have a feeling they're planning something. It's only the first part of lunch, and I really hope that nothing happens during the second half. Or for the rest of the day, thinking about it."

I smiled at the small joke. It was nice to see he was still in good spirits. "Well one can hope. I'm on the table over there, so I'll keep an eye and ear out if you ever need me."

Charles nodded, looking past my shoulder. "The one to look out for is the guy with the streaked blonde hair. He's quite chubby as well. He's…" He arched his head a little before he said, "two tables behind you."

"Okay, I'll make sure to keep an eye out for him. I could even try to listen to him as I grab some food. Anyway, I'll meet up with you at the gates if nothing happens, as usual."

Charles nodded again, picking up a chip from his plate. "Can you be there earlier, please? You were really late yesterday and it was getting cold and windy."

I arched an eyebrow – the kid needed to toughen up. "I'll see how I feel, but you really ought to eat something a bit healthier for lunch." I snickered as I stole a chip myself. "I'll consider that as payment."

It had been a while since I ate something so fatty. Despite the lazy appearances, I wasn't the sort of person who indulged themselves in chocolate or greasy food. I settled with a Caesar salad and a standard bottle of juice (which I rarely drank all of) for lunch, making eye contact with Charles as I went to my seat.

"I'm telling you! The guy at the fountain, the one that looked like a right homeless thing? Yeah, he practically clung onto me last night. He was a pain to shake off afterwards."

That was as much as I could manage to hear as I passed Harry's table. I knew fully well that they were up to no good, but so long as it wasn't directed at Charles, they could do what they pleased.

I couldn't listen out for the rest of their conversation due to the constant buzz of the lunch hall, but I kept an eye on them as I promised. It was soon the end of the school day without an incident and I arrived (despite the chip as payment) fashionably late at the school gates.

But as I looked left and right, I realised with a sinking feeling that there was something up with this picture. It wasn't the crowd (I was normally too late to get caught in the rush) and I had to check the time to be sure I hadn't come out early. Rather, Charles was nowhere in sight. Not that he was not in the bustle of screaming children and the outburst of teenage boys' laughter, but he genuinely wasn't in the bundle at all.

I dashed towards the school – there wasn't anywhere else he could be. And if Harry had got to him, probably right now, Charles would be pretty scared.

Doors flung open as I searched all the classrooms that were nearby. Rational thinking didn't even come into play until later on, when I did the more sensible thing and ran towards his form room. It's strange, freaking out. It was what I should have done when I heard the news of my real biological dad and fake family, but my heart had never raced this loud or hard. Was that natural?

I finally saw him at the lockers in a sea of papers. His back was to me, but his arms were clasped round his stomach and rocked to and fro. One locker door on the second row was open, and it only took me a few guesses to realise what had happened.

I got onto my knees, making sure not to put my muddy shoes anywhere near his work. "It's not that bad." I observed the wreckage, and the only thing I could assume was that Harry had ripped up Charles' exercise books and played fireworks with them. Where Charles was at the time was what I wanted to know. "Are you hurt?"

My brother turned his tear-streaked face to me, not saying anything.

"Tell me what happened, it's not going to fix itself."

I knew I hit the right button as Charles looked away slightly. "Well, I didn't see them do it. I just came out of class to see this. And my PE bag's missing and…and I need that for tomorrow."

I let out a sigh in thought. "Well, I might have some things at home you could use for the lesson. They might be a bit big, but that shouldn't matter too much."

"No," Charles said fiercely, his eyes intent on the floor. I arched an eyebrow for him to continue. "I don't want more of your things ruined because of me. It's not fair on you."

"And it's not fair for you to go through this alone," I countered swiftly, making my point by observing the scattered papers. "It's gotten to the stage you need to talk to someone. And if you're not going to, I will."

I pick up the nearest sheet, noting it was on squared paper. That was probably the maths.

"I don't think that'll do anything," Charles started, but I stopped him with a stern look before he could continue.

"Charles, what I see is those kids shoving you round. And you're not doing a thing about it. If you think it'll get better, think again." It was the truth, and he was having difficulty in realising that. "If you have such a pessimistic view before you even try, then of course it's going to get worse."

I started an English and science pile of classwork as I looked at the past three months of Charles' academic life. Relatively average grades were circled in red, masses of scribbles from incorrect words to whole paragraphs.

"I didn't want to bother you. It's not too serious really – I can cope with all this, and they'll probably get bored of it in the end. There are loads of other people who are just as cowardly as me."

"Don't think like that," I cut in, determined to cut that train of thought. "You're not cowardly. You're really quite assertive if you could express yourself like that in public places. Yes, home and school is different, but you shouldn't be so afraid to be here."

Charles sniffed, and I inwardly hoped he wasn't going to start up again. The corridor was deathly silent besides us, and it would attract the wrong sort of attention if someone overheard us.

"We'll sort this out. Let's clear this up and take whatever bits you need to tonight if you have any homework. You can use my bag as well if you have too much or you don't want to leave it here overnight. About the PE kit, we'll visit the lost property and the reception to see if they saw it anywhere. With any luck, your friends might have misplaced them rather than do anything to it." I smiled as I started reading the simultaneous equations work I had helped with. "89 percent? That's great!"

Charles smiled shyly as he looked over my shoulder. "That was with your help, so it doesn't count."

"It counts," I replied nonchalantly, putting the paper on the maths pile. "Listen, I'll help you however many times you need me to. Just promise me you'll stop beating yourself up. It's only natural to think that you can't change what other people think, but you really need to stand up for yourself."

Charles gave a small nod. "I'll try."

"It's a deal."

And as we continued to clear up the paperwork, my mind was on other things. Did I care about him so much because we were brothers, or because we had grown up together? I had thought of the two things as the same, but perhaps it was kinder for me to separate them like the simultaneous equations.


	6. Showdown

It went without saying that reception and lost property didn't find a standard blue PE bag. I knew that that was going to happen, but it didn't hurt to try, and now desperate measures had to be taken. As Charles rightly said, teachers were hopeless. And as I had thought that same night, it was up to the students to make the difference.

I left the house ten minutes earlier than normal time, stuffing a quick slice of toast and a sip of water as my breakfast. I didn't register Mum's look of surprise as I dashed out the front door and shouting back that Charles would be fine by himself. It was a considerably different pace to our normal mundane mornings, which were idle and made the time go slower than it actually was. It was shocking when I was walking to the school gates to see so many people despite the steady rain, some even having a good laugh just inside and not actually going to registration.

Instead of heading to my form class, I went towards the other block towards Charles'. It didn't take me long to find the right room, and as I peered through the window, I knew instantly that Harry was the one sitting on the table.

I opened the door with a damp hand, and a good dozen pairs of eyes questioned why I was there. "Harry? Miss Jones wants a quick word with you."

The filthy child glared at his friends as one of them said, "Ooh, someone's got themselves a detention". It would have been immature if someone my age did that (which I did all the time), but it was almost an innocent suggestion.

Harry kicked himself off the table and I let him through the door first. I made certain to resist slamming the door, and gestured for the child to go up the corridor.

"I bet you've just received a detention yourself," he spat, making sure to glower at my undone tie and unkempt hair. "How come she isn't telling me off personally?"

I grinned at the prospect of getting to the best bit. I waited until we were far enough down the corridor before I answered his question. "Because she's not coming to see you."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me. Well, he would have done if I hadn't shoved him into the neat line of wet coats along the cloakroom. He stumbled and gracefully landed on the wood beneath. Quite surprising to watch really, especially since he wasn't the most athletic kid I had seen.

"What was that for? Who are you?"

I narrowed my eyes. I would have assumed that, just by looking at me, people could tell Charles and I were siblings. But with me having a different dad, perhaps that didn't help much at all. "That doesn't matter a great deal. What have you done with Charles' PE kit?"

His chin wobbled as he tried to find the right words. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh?" I smiled cruelly as I leaned against the opposite wall. If Harry hadn't done anything violent to my brother, then I guess it was only fair that I did the same back to him. Despite it being so tempting. "Well, unless he was crying at the lockers and lying to me for no apparent reason, I don't believe you."

Harry bared his teeth at me. "I don't even know who you are!"

I really wanted to laugh then. Were we really so different? Did it have to be spelt out? I had heard of statements where so and so looked just like their sibling. But had that statement ever been directed at _me_? I had thought so, but perhaps it wasn't the case and I had made an honest mistake.

"I'm Charles' big brother, is that good enough?"

He looked absolutely flabbergasted. I suppose Charles hadn't made a show about me outside his friends, and I didn't mind that in the slightest. I wasn't the sort to be admired anyway, what with having the late record of the century. I just thought that anyone would be able to tell we were related.

"So, are you going to tell me where you put it? I'd hate to think you'd done something drastic with it, especially since the PE lesson is…first period, was it?"

I heard and saw him swallow. Three years difference really did make some impact. "It's on the playing field. W-we threw it up the tree."

I beamed. "Thanks. And next time you think it's funny to make my brother cry, it'll be more than a pep-talk you'll get." If that even counted as a pep-talk, anyway. It required a lot of time to think up of a proper one, and I hardly had that level of charisma.

Harry bought it though, vigorously nodding and clambering onto his feet. "Yeah, I know. I won't go near him again."

"Thanks," I said again with a smile. "And I think your parents would want to know what happened as well, won't they? Let's not give them the false impression that their son's going to grow up wonderful and kind to everyone he meets. And for your information, I'd have no hesitation to step in."

"No, I'll do it!"

"Good to know we understand each other. Have a nice day." I watched him dash back to his friends, probably looking considerably paler than if he had a confrontation with Miss Jones.

Now to work.

I would have gotten Tom to help me if there wasn't a deadline. I was normally so late to class that people would think it was strange for me to be on time to poke my head round the door. Even if it meant getting caught vandalising school property or whatever crime climbing trees was, I didn't need to think of the consequences.

Finding a blue bag in a giant tangle of green was harder than it sounded. Especially since it was the morning, where the sun's rays weren't exactly the most illuminating in the first dreary hours.

It wasn't up terribly high to my relief – I didn't know what I was expecting from a bunch of twelve year olds. I grabbed hold of the string and tugged a few times to get it down.

I supposed it was near the end of registration that I managed to get it down, legging it to Charles' form room and rapping on the door harder than I thought I did.

The second time I opened the door, I think some of the students did a double take. Harry didn't look at me altogether, and the tired man at the teacher's desk looked up from what I could assume was the register. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah. Do you mind if I could borrow Charles for a moment?"

I think Charles was up before his form tutor gave the go-ahead. It wasn't like he could turn round and say no to me. I didn't get that sort of vibe off him.

"Eon! Why did you take off this morning?" he shouted at me once I closed the door. "I've never walked to school on my own, and you just expected me to be all right with it?"

I grinned. "Accept my apology?" I held up the PE kit triumphantly, and Charles' eyes widened. He looked between me and the bag, uncertain of what to say. "We've both been through a lot this morning. I'd say that we're even."

Charles nodded, slightly dazed as I handed the bag to him. "You did this? For me?"

"Yeah, looks that way. And Harry even said that he won't bother you anymore."

He blinked, probably repeating the words in his head to make sure he understood what I had said. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I said a few words to him, and he turned tail," I explained with a grin. "Let's just say I was playing nice and let him make his choice about what to do. After all, he knows now that he'd have to answer through me now."

Charles hugged me round the waist, PE kit crashing into my side. I didn't care if there would be a bruise there in the morning – I just wanted us two to be together for as long as this month would let me.

As I stroked the top of his brown hair, I came to realise something. Not only would Charles not be able to cope with such a future, but he wouldn't be fit for it. Owning an entire company and demanding respect from subordinates was beyond his league, and if he had to depend on others about something as trivial as bullying, I didn't want him to suffer on a larger scale with no one to depend on. He wouldn't know the first thing about being the one on top, being the one to be in charge. The thing I loved about him was that he knew that he was innocent, ignorant in thinking that his education and character was insignificant.

He wouldn't be able to survive a day at the Silver Lynx. And, even if my dad really was someone other than Matthew, I realised then that I would have to take the blow for Charles.

There wasn't a way to save both of us. I looked out for him all this time, and now I would have to entrust that to Mum. I wouldn't be there for any of them, but it was for the better.


	7. Blackjack

A month went quicker than I wanted it to go. I went to Charles' concert, and I clapped harder than anyone in my family when the performance had finished. I treated him to a small present afterwards, spoiled him for all his work in the way I wouldn't be able to in the future. I helped him with his maths whenever he had homework due, leaving mine to the last minute as well. But that wasn't all too out of the ordinary, now thinking about it.

I wasn't aware of my arrangements regarding school. I would have loved to finish the semester, have the end of year party once the exams had finished. I even had to turn down Tom's offer of a sleepover since I didn't want to disappoint him when it was certain I wouldn't turn up.

Despite me often being a bit laid-back regarding time, I set my heart on leaving on the fourth weekend after my conversation with Joker. A weekend was my best choice, letting me see all the family before I said goodbye for them for either a long time or forever. I wanted them to be the last faces to see before embarking on the journey ahead.

My schoolbag was packed with things other than schoolbooks in there now, with photos of the family and as many sentimental items I could put in there. A few bangles from our shop that I personally would never wear. My favourite jacket that my mum had stitched up the sleeve recently for.

I opened the wardrobe, and it was in there that I slotted a discrete note (with the corner still showing) into the pocket of my school uniform.

_Give this to Charles when he reaches my year. A new uniform would be expensive._

I opened the window and lowered my bag as far as I could before dropping it into the bushes below. I waited a few seconds to make sure that no one heard, then did a last sweep round the room. My sheets were changed, the dead batteries from the alarm clock chucked into the bin.

And the notes.

_Take lots of embarrassing pictures of Mum on her birthday._

_Don't forget that the restock day's Friday next week, not Tuesday._

The more I saw that I was leaving the place, the more I couldn't believe it. I had been here for fifteen years, yet as I looked at everything in my room, it suddenly didn't feel that long at all.

I snatched my wallet from my bedside table and stuffed it into my trouser pocket, getting back to the mission I was meant to. I shut the door behind me without looking back. Charles poked his head round the door next door, which was the entrance to his room.

"Are you leaving?"

I nodded. I wasn't leaving for a snooker match like what I had said the previous evening over dinner; my friends didn't have such a thing arranged. It was a standard goodbye, and I would be back in the evening.

"Aren't you going to see me off?"

Charles smiled shyly. "Of course I will."

I wouldn't have wanted him to miss it for the world either. I let my hand drag across the banister as I went down the stairs, its wooden touch so familiar.

My mum and dad were next, my shoes lined up at the bottom of the stairs exactly where I left them when I conveniently realised I had forgotten my money. I noted that they've been straightened up, since I recall kicking them off rather than being formal about it.

I grinned as I put on the first shoe. "I won't be long, I promise." I directed this as Mum, who I knew would know what I was going to do. Perhaps she had always worried about that whenever I left the house, for there were times she would cry when I was back later than I had promised.

I didn't pay attention to the guilt that ate at me now.

"We know that, son. Just enjoy yourself."

I let Matthew's words brush over me. He and I weren't related, yet our time together was genuine. I can only hope that he would watch over the family for my sake. It was about time Charles opened up to his blood relatives rather than to me.

I nodded as I got to my feet. "Thank you. I'll be off then."

All three of them waved me off at the door. I looked back more than once at their smiling faces, falsely believing that it was just another day. I dreaded to think what would happen beyond that moment, where my disappearance could very well damage the family. But it was out of my hands now, and it was for their sake more than mine.

I walked right to the street corner before I went back to retrieve my bag in the bushes. It would have been the end of me if someone had seen me, and I half hoped that someone would, to prevent me from leaving.

But no such thing did as I dusted my shoulder bag, putting the strap over my head and breaking into a run away from everything I had ever grown up with.

I wasn't particularly great in PE, so it naturally wasn't long until I was out of breath and walked the rest of the way to the bad end of town: District Five. It looked just like the rest of Traverse Town, with neon lights overhead and the small number of people busting at its centre.

The thing there was was noise. Not of chatter and the latest gossip, but music and something almost magical and alluring. And it didn't take a genius to work out that music and pretty colours were the one thing people couldn't resist.

I hadn't thought much of casinos. I did my best to halt that train of thought until this moment, where that was the only future I had now. It was a place of fun, a place where perhaps people got together if fate let that happen.

Ultimately though, that was idealistic.

I followed a dingy alleyway towards the source of the music, and sure enough, the words I was looking for shone above me in a painful flashing sequence, greens and purples in big pulses. The decorative accessory lights marked the end of the building, and I could tell by standing at the doors that the interior was larger than what I could imagine. The Silver Lynx was beyond my expectations, and I wasn't entirely sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

I ran a tongue over my lips, nervously glancing behind me. This was my last chance to dash back home.

The doors opened suddenly, and I jumped backwards in a state of panic. I didn't think the staff would know me immediately and drag me in, but that was certainly the first impression that I got.

"Hey, you going in?"

I looked between the man and the door, and it occurred to me that the man was only offering to hold the door.

"Right, thanks," I said hurriedly as I relieved him of the door. I didn't look at him in the eye for long – casinos weren't the place for people under eighteen. The floor changed from dingy slabs to a deep gold, the carpet squishing beneath my feet as I entered my new world.

Of course, the distant music turned into a racket in an instant. But there was laughter, sounds of things ranging from glasses to chips clinking. To be honest, I wouldn't have guessed there were so many people in one room. The chandelier above was spectacular, and the upstairs floors boasted a banister so grand it put the one at home to shame.

Here, I was Jack Ludor. Eon Green was dead the moment he left the house.

I weaved my way through the crowds as I learned more about this place. The waitresses were all girls, in tight-fitting purple dresses and rather high boots. The men's uniform was a black waistcoat with matching trousers and purple bow tie. I wasn't fond of the colour, I gradually noticed as I made eye contact with a particularly grouchy bartender.

When I was in charge, everything will have order.

"Four of a kind."

"You cheat! You haven't lost a single game yet!"

I raised my head towards the poker table, and one man had stood up and pointing finger at the accused. Admittedly, I was interested in how the matter would be resolved.

"Nonsense. You're new to the game, of course you were going to lose," the other man said as he got onto his feet too. I took note of his tuxedo, and compared it with the man in the faded trousers.

"Gentlemen, let's deal with this rationally." The dealer had gotten himself involved in the situation – a person with mild authority. "I'm sorry sir, but the other player won fair and square. I suggest you decide if you want to proceed with the game."

The apparent loser picked up his leather jacket from the back of the chair and slung it over. His mouth was pursed, evidently doing his best to restrain from spitting. "Whatever. I should have seen this coming. You all stick up for each other at the end of the day."

He turned to leave, and the other player took his chips with a brief nod to the dealer.

Altogether, it turned out to be the best possible conclusion.

"Things could have turned out a lot worse," I commented as I approached the dealer.

He smiled. "It's always like that with anyone. A game doesn't always go well for both sides of the party. And there are certain instances where the person with the lower hand simply can't accept their loss in a courteous way." He cleared up the cards and put them to one side as he used the other hand to get out a new deck. "Are you enrolling for a game, sir?"

"No, I'm underage," I admitted without a second thought. "I'm actually looking for a man who goes by the name of Joker. Do you know where I can find him?"

He stared at me as though I had said something rather outrageous. "Joker? What business do you have with him? He's right hand man to King himself, what right do you have?"

I was about to explain my situation, then caught myself just in time. This dealer was just an employee – he didn't need to know the details. Even I didn't know how much of it was true, only that here was the only place I should be. I had left my family behind for this, and I had to get to Joker using whatever means I could. "Look, do you know where he is or don't you?"

"Sir, no one gets to Joker without a decent reason. That's basic regulations here. Terrorism, personal grudge, safety procedures. State your name and occupation, then I'll put a word through."

I shrugged. It was now or never. "Jack Ludor. I don't think you need three guesses what my occupation is."

I knew immediately he didn't believe me. I took a few steps backwards, letting his eyes search me up and down before I crashed into the poker table behind me. "What proof have you? There's no evidence whatsoever."

"Tell me," I pressed, raising my chin in the same way I had done with Harry. I didn't pay attention to the fact he was a good twenty years older than me. His bottom lip trembled, and it was clear that he refused to believe I was who I was claiming to be. How many people had claimed the name before me? Jack was just an alias, and Ludor was the family name that everyone knew.

I just needed to get to him to know that I was the one he was looking for all this time.

"I'm calling security. There have been hundreds of people naming themselves Jack Ludor. It's a comfy place at the top of the food chain, you know."

I grinned. "And I imagine that you've wanted to be there yourself."

I ducked to avoid him attacking me over the head. I didn't know how many fights had taken place in the casino, but that was the least of my problems.

The bald dealer shouted "security" repeatedly, and it was only a matter of time I would get thrown out if I didn't start running. Running wasn't my strong point, but everything depended on this one moment.

I dodged their hands, ran between the customers the way only a teenager could. I needed to increase my distance from them, and upon seeing the stairs towards the grand upper floor, I knew that was the way to go.

I was out of breath by the time I was running down that long corridor towards the back of the building, but I pushed myself to the limits. The rush of footsteps behind me was accompanied by the screams of "stop!" but I kept going despite my stitch becoming increasingly painful.

I had to, if I was to have the future that was dangling before my eyes. Everything depended on it – for the first time in a long time, I didn't want to wait.

It was either from carelessness or lack of control that I had somehow ran straight into a large man as I turned the corner. I flew back upon impact, staggering a few steps back to prevent myself falling onto the floor. There was only a second I could observe his dark skin and equally dark eyes, but I knew that it would either be very difficult or impossible to run past him. He had the most muscles I had ever seen on a human being, to the point even the uniform was made specifically to cater for them…which evidently meant no sleeves at all.

He held up a hand. I was afraid he would snatch me right off my feet, but he simply held it by his shoulder. "Security, leave us."

I blinked fervently and took a moment to turn my head and sure enough, the guards were not too far behind me.

"But Bruno, we have reason to believe that this man is to be turned away. He caused a commotion downstairs because--"

"He claims to be Jack Ludor," the man named Bruno completed, and a quirk of an eyebrow was enough to silence any more protests. I could barely take my eyes off his thick eyebrows. "Nevertheless, I will accompany him from now on. Thank you for your concern, but please resume your normal duties."

There were a handful of murmurs behind me as the guards retraced their steps, some of them cursing under their breath whilst others were clearly just angry. Bruno didn't take long to register their leaving, instead traipsing down the hall with those burly shoulders swinging with each step. He didn't look back once, but I knew that I was supposed to follow. I made sure to keep my distance, knowing that Bruno could turn round any second and knock me out.

But he only recognised my existence once we reached a large set of golden double doors. "Wait here," he instructed.

Bruno didn't wait for me to agree or disagree, opening the door a fraction to let himself in without me seeing too much. But I did catch a glimpse of the stark interior and the linoleum that could either have suggested a kitchen or a slaughterhouse. I didn't dare imagine what was happening past those endearing doors.

Instead, I turned to face the corridor of gold upon white and took in the vase of flowers set on the oak table, the painting of the First District that hung further down the stretch. In an otherwise closed-off building of machines and lies, there was still acknowledgement of the world outside. The silence enveloped me despite the buzz of everything downstairs. I was truly alone, torn between this life and the life outside, left with just my thoughts as company.

Fortunately, Bruno came out of the room before my mind could wander for long. "He'll see you now."


	8. It's a Dog-Eat-Dog Game

The slaughterhouse was smaller than what the double doors suggested. As I took my first steps into the room (which was covered in light wood, not linoleum like I had thought) I was aware I had stumbled into a dining room of sorts. The walls were covered in equally subtle patterns, a display of extravagant plates lining one side. The table set in the middle could cater for a small party, with each placemat complete with cutlery of every variety and an upturned glass to keep the dust out.

There was an eerie laugh, one I couldn't get out of my head even after a month. "Jack Ludor, nice of you to drop by. King Ludor knew you'd come."

And as I stared at my blood dad on the far end of the table, one arm on the table and the other idly circling the rim of his wineglass, I knew there was no mistake. His eyes were the same as mine, inquisitive and yet slightly curious. He had everything about me, from his face structure to even something like our ears. He sported four rather large piercings, three on his left side and a bar through the right. His beard extended right to his neck, but I could still see the growing frown beneath the platinum hair.

Joker flashed a grin at me before he lowered his head slightly formally. I wasn't sure to return it as I closed the door behind me.

His green eyes averted away from me slowly as he directed his next words to the man at the table. "I can assure you that this gentleman is the one I found. As for the lunch, I'll let the guests know there has been a change of plan."

Hadrian grunted softly from his throat as he continued to stare at me. I wasn't used to the pressure, and I let my eyes drift towards the ceiling adorned with a picturesque blue sky.

"Jack. What an entrance," Joker said a little too offhandedly. "I heard you caused quite a commotion downstairs."

I wasn't looking, but I was aware Joker was looking at me just as intently. He was fascinated that I had come, and I still had the tugging feeling inside that I should head back. I disliked Joker more than the first time we met, and it was amazing how quickly the memories returned. "It wasn't intentional."

"I bet," he added sceptically as one hand felt for his pocket. "I'll leave you both to it, shall I?"

Joker didn't wait for the word of approval this time, and strode across the room towards me. I stood to one side, still mildly embarrassed and nervous, as I let him make his exit. I suspected he would later gossip about me with Bruno, but that was the least of my worries. As he left the room, I felt my confidence leave with him.

It was obvious I hadn't set the best impression. My favourite jeans made me stick out in a bad way, an eyesore in a room as glorious as this. Was I expected to address him as King Ludor as well? I honestly didn't have the right capabilities to take over an entire family business, and if I was to tell him that now, would he pull me into an embrace and tell me everything would be all right the way Matthew would? Was Hadrian Ludor the face of someone who abandoned his first son?

"Jack, take a seat."

His voice was lower than I expected, yet gentle and with an air of professionalism. I obeyed him, afraid I would forget how it sounded. His eyes watched me as I lifted the chair to pull it out, afraid that its screech would only add to my growing list of bad points. He had a certain calibre about him that I found enchanting. Although he hadn't moved an inch, his voice carried in a room with no acoustics. Could I, a layabout, be like him?

"Sarah named you Eon?"

I nodded as formally as I could. Although Hadrian was slouching, I couldn't bring myself to do the same. "It's short for Albion."

He gave a sound of approval, letting a hand drum against the surface. "Yes, she always did warm up to my father," he deliberated, speaking loud and clear with pronunciation I wasn't used to. "He was the one who approved of her on that night, even before me. The final decision was mine, but my father always did have a knack for telling the future."

The grandfather I never had the chance to meet. And if Hadrian was now in charge of the casino, it only made sense that Albion had passed away without my knowledge. How many other relatives did I have, whose funerals I didn't attend because I didn't know they had existed and perhaps vice versa?

"How was she?" he asked next.

"I had the feeling she knew I was leaving," I admitted. My voice wavered, but I tried not to think much of it. "Was it your orders that I shouldn't mention anything?"

He sighed. "Jack, I hope you considered the stakes coming here today. Joker filled me in, and I trust that you are here because you didn't want your family to suffer as a result, correct?" I nodded slowly. "I cannot guarantee that, even if you become the figurehead here when I die. It's a dog-eat-dog game you're signing up to, and it's not a school trip where people hold your hand and lead you through. Some of the enemies you may make can play dirty and find them no matter how well you hide your origins."

"I know that," I cut in as I considered grabbing a spoon by the end of its handle and swinging it like an ominous pendulum if it would quell my nerves. An object of wealth, not a tool for eating. "But I guess that means I can't afford to make enemies."

I looked up at him and beamed. In return, he narrowed his eyes. "You have her smile. One of the many things I loved about her."

"So why did you leave her?" I demanded. "Is it for all the safety again? The sworn secrecy practically killed her for fifteen years, and I'm never going to have the chance to ask about it for the same ridiculous reason." My true nature was gradually returning as I went on the offense.

"It was a necessary measure." He removed his hand from the table surface and let it rest on his lap. He didn't appear to notice my change in attitude. "She wanted you to lead as much of a normal life as you could, and I fully agreed to it. The two of us never got married so no one would find you through the system. We made a clean break, ceased all communications and I never came after her. It was a risk that she decided to take, and it worked out for the better."

I pouted, finding it hard to believe that Mum would make such a bold decision. Did she, back in those days, want nothing more to do with the casino the same way she didn't want me exposed to it?

"You grew up wonderfully, with a loving family that I would never have been able to provide. A father that took my place during all your birthdays, all those hardships and painful moments. You still have the option to walk out that door anytime," he added so casually I knew it was a test.

The idea was tempting, but if I did, Charles would be the one sitting here instead. I had no choice but to go ahead with this. "I still don't see you as my dad, but I'm willing to accept it for now. I have no intention of going back, especially considering the stakes."

Hadrian's eyes narrowed. "Playing the role of the big brother?"

"Something like that," I found myself saying.

"Joker loves improvisation and biting off more than he can chew. If he said something to you, and I sincerely apologise for that, it's likely he went beyond my instructions so you would be sitting here now."

I felt my heart sink. Was my family in no real danger then? I felt betrayed, but there was also an undeniable burden taken off me. I had wondered whether it was right of me to be here, but if this was my future I was born for, then there was nothing wrong in taking ownership of what rightfully belonged to me.

I shook my head. "No, it's my choice to be here."

"You're noble," he said aloud. Like everything else that had passed through his lips, there wasn't a shred of hesitance. "Your childhood is important from now on, and your mother and I wanted you to experience so many things there that you can't here. That honourable instinct of protecting, the chivalry, are the first steps of being a man. I know I wasn't the most supportive of fathers, but I'll teach you as much as these old bones let me."

"Are you dying?"

He laughed as he reached for a wineglass at his tablemat. "Every passing second. This casino will be the death of me; there's always hushed whispers of assassination and eliminating the competition. You've just got to keep on top of the game to make sure you don't slip up, like what I've been doing all these years. If you go into the game without knowing the rules first, you'll get eaten in seconds."

The dog-eat-dog game.

"I'll study hard," I said determinedly, more intent on convincing myself rather than him.

"Excellent. Let's show you round the place." He got up from his seat, straight-backed and glass in hand but not actually drinking from it. "But first, you have a question face."

I exhaled, looking down at the spoon again. "You mentioned Joker liked to exaggerate. He said that I wasn't allowed to see my family again, and that my brother would be here if I refused." I was afraid of the answer, but I wanted to hear it. My childhood meant something, and more than anything I wanted to return, however was there even the slightest chance that Joker was wrong?

I knew the answer seconds before Hadrian replied.

"The chances of your half-brother taking over are slim. Unfortunately though, both are correct to an extent, son." And though he said that last word so forcefully his calm exterior finally broke, it couldn't compare to the sinking realisation that, like the clientele here, I had been thrown a bone and the gate had shut behind me with no way out.


	9. Raising the Stakes

As I promised, I didn't waver from my path once. I knew what I had to do, what I had sacrificed and what was to come. Initially during the nights I had lie awake, wondering what my family were doing on the other side of town. Did they send out a search party for me, or did my mum know that it was unnecessary? Did she tell Charles, probably the only one who was clueless about the situation, or was my life covered up with one more lie?

What was I supposed to be learning in science today? Had Tom begun to realise that something was wrong, how I wasn't simply late for weeks on end?

No one came for me except Joker in the morning, opening the curtains and telling me of arrangements of the day a butler would. My room, far wider and emptier than my one back at home, still didn't feel like mine. The clothes that I wore were now tailor-made and alien against my skin. I would spend a few minutes in the mirror examining who I turned into over the months, my facial features becoming sterner and more alert than I had ever been as Eon. On the occasions I displayed my trademark smile, it felt strained under this roof and became increasingly closer to a knowing smirk.

Year after year, my brain exploded with the necessary knowledge that both Hadrian and Joker pounded into me. I met regular clients, I developed a complex understanding of English and could turn an entire conversation into what I wanted it to with a few choice phrases. Word play became a standard whenever I was with people; I even took up drinking wine as soon as I turned eighteen, naturally under the recommendations of Joker and my father.

Only the bare bones of my first fifteen years lingered in my mind. Everything else I deemed as unnecessary to make room for the Silver Lynx and its workings.

I observed the casino proceedings from the top of the stairs, leaning an arm against the banister and overlooking everything that happened below. This before me was three generations' worth of work, and it was my duty to make sure it flourished exactly as my father had done before.

"Joker, prepare the stats report of this quarter. We should be making a considerable profit from the last quarter, and why we haven't met this quota is concerning me. Bring along the reports from the past three years too, they may prove useful."

He hadn't changed in five years, although there was a slight increase of grey hairs in the mass of black. The veins on his hands were so prominently was a clear sign of overwork, but it didn't get to him one bit. He had appeared alert on many occasions, but that wasn't enough to say he wasn't pushing to his limits.

"Certainly," he confirmed with a mild bow of the head. "We will examine them in closer detail during the 1300 meeting, Master Ludor."

"Very well." Thinking on the business level was mind-numbing, but simply looking at the employees and customers made it all the more worthwhile. It spoke to me, that I was making the right calls and that I was doing the job at a reasonable standard. There was laughter at the baccarrat table, the happy sound of cheers round the roulette. From here, in the lighting, everyone's hair illuminated bright and I could count everyone present.

There was even someone with pink hair (maybe a wig?) I could pick out, sitting way too close to the slot machine and devoting their full attention to it.

"Master Ludor, if it's bothering you, I'd like to say how well you've progressed since you've come here."

Joker always had a keen eye; he mentioned that himself the first time we met. This often meant that he knew what I was thinking just from observing my body language.

But, being at a powerful position such where I was, emotional support wasn't required. I was only a few months away from being twenty, but Joker still thought of me as that naive, stupid boy who couldn't use his brain when it mattered most. We were professionals. "Joker, I would appreciate it if you could keep such thoughts to yourself."

I didn't let my previous family get to me. My only home was here, and I had to protect my inheritance for however long I had this life for. My father had given me up so he could focus on reinforcing the company for my sake rather than contribute to my upbringing. I could forgive him for all that, when five years ago I had struggled to do the same.

In just five years, I had the thought processing of a mastermind. Eon would never have accomplished such mentality in the item shop, with his lazy attitude to work and tendency to help others rather than himself. In the same way, I had learnt so much more from my father in four years than I ever learnt from Matthew in fifteen.

I still valued all that. Life shouldn't be rushed, but the crucial thing Eon didn't see was money. The sight of it made the customers happy and what brought them here in the first place. From the top, I didn't have the capacity to remember names and faces.

So when security brought round a wriggling man, it took me a few moments to recognise the uniform as one of the casino's staff.

"Jack, we're sorry for the inconvenience but Gary caused a major disturbance."

I raised a hand before they could go any further. "It's all right, I have an inkling I know what he's after. And I will see to it my own way."

I offered a hand to Gary on the floor, but he got onto his feet on his own. Pleasantries apparently weren't on the list of how to arrange the problem. "Sir, I--"

"I am fully aware," I cut in, pushing myself off the banister and proceeding down the corridor I had dashed down to escape security the first time I came here. "If you would kindly follow me. Security, that will be all."

They dispersed, and Gary walked a few feet behind me with nervous steps. I could hear Joker reassuring him and laughing his signature laugh from time to time, but it was simply all an impression I had to set. I only spoke when necessary. My words had to be chosen carefully, formulated during the excursion down the corridor as my client got distracted. I was ahead of them both to emphasise my superiority and to expose my back, my pinstripe jacket flailing behind me as I walked briskly.

I held the door open for my followers, inviting them into my office. It wasn't much, just an oak table and some rather pointless accessories and ornaments. On my first day, I had made the mistake of putting a photograph of my family on display, causing a fair bit of disruption between my father and me.

Now it was just too overridden with paperwork, the true appearance of a busy man who was dedicated to the ruling of the casino.

"I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have--"

"Sit down," I instructed, sinking myself into the leather seat on the other side. I remember throwing my legs onto the table, and that too had to be beaten out of me. I crossed one leg over the other and got comfortable. "Are you also furious about Trent's pay rise?"

"That's right," he started as he sat in the opposite seat. Joker silently stood behind me, and I could see in the reflection of the photo frame that he was sorting out his gloves. The frame housed my only living relative and me, so to speak. It was during my eighteenth birthday, where my father had requested we commemorate the moment. It was rather stuffy and arrogant to my taste, but I only put it there to satisfy my father.

"Regarding Trent, we have valid reasons why we gave him such a privilege."

"Jack, I've been working for the company for over thirty years. I demand to know what's happening round here – rumours have been spread amongst the staff that it's favouritism."

I sighed. "I am aware of that. There have been a number before you claiming the same thing. And it's come down to this."

I waved a hand at Joker, and he withdrew a gun from my desk drawer. I had thought the mannerism lazy, even for my standards, but once again it was all about power play. Gary's eyes opened in shock, and I chose not to comment on it until the gun was in my hand. It was a small reminder of who was in charge, if the silence went on for longer than necessary.

I smiled gently. "Don't look so concerned, there aren't any bullets in this. I'm not inhumane enough to bunk off my own staff. No, this is a modified weapon used especially for a miniature game of Russian roulette."

Gary swallowed, and I pretended I didn't see such fear. "What does that mean?"

"It means we'd take turns at shooting ourselves." I unlocked the barrel and showed it to Gary. "As you see, one of the slots has already been filled in. This is the real bullet, so to speak. It won't fire though, it'll just create a different sound. A blank."

I spun the barrel round and slammed it shut. Gary's eyes followed the gun as I placed it in the centre of the table.

"It's completely random where the bullet is, and you'll be the one to decide who shoots first. Simple as that. If you win, I'll give you a ten percent pay increase. If I win, you'll dismiss such thoughts and you will swear everything said in this room is sworn to secrecy. You may leave at any time and won't go on your record. However, this is the only chance I will give you." I leaned back in my chair. "What will it be?"

He blinked, and I could see the first traces of sweat on his forehead. "I'll take this chance then. You can shoot first."

I buried another smile. That's what they all said. To be polite or to see how it was done, I wasn't sure which it was. I took the butt of the gun and pressed it against my head the way it was done in the real version of Russian roulette. The game was an art, even if it was brutal and had little sense. There was a click, then I passed the gun to him.

Very easy game, yet so many people couldn't win against me. I didn't cheat; I just had the upper hand to begin with.

A bang resounded in the room as Gary shot himself. His hand shook as he sat there paralysed, trying to process what had happened. His breathing was sharp, and I relieved him of the gun before he dropped dead for real.

"Good game," I congratulated him as I got onto my feet. "Thus it is concluded."

I opened the door for Gary to go first. "But Jack…Did you do that for everyone?"

I raised my chin slightly. "Who knows. If you recall the conditions I set, even your peers wouldn't be able to answer that." My grin grew wider. "Unless they decide to break that agreement, in which case certain consequences would be inevitable."

Gary allowed me to go first whilst Joker locked up the office. "I'll honour our agreement, so I won't breathe a word."

We reached the stairs, and the staff member left the two of us without saying anything else. Undoubtedly, someone just like him will come to me in the next coming days, and I would fail to assign Gary's name to the face I saw today.

"Master Ludor, I'll be on my way to prepare the stats report. Keep your profile low," Joker added as he too left me to my own devices.

There were times where I had a few minutes to myself before meetings. I often indulged myself in wine if it was the evening, and tea if it was the morning and afternoon. However, as my eyes scanned the slot machines, I was in the mood for neither.

I was raising the stakes by doing something different to my routine, but it will pay in the long run. Hadrian had said how vital it was to socialise, and I might as well start now with the pink-haired customer.


	10. Gambler's Fallacy

The first time I saw him, I thought it was bad lighting. Now that I was walking down the rows of slot machines, it dawned on me that the man really did have pink hair. And I could tell he was a man because he was glued to the screen like many others before him. Women were more graceful than that, observing things from a milder distance and often weren't alone.

He pulled the crank, the cogs in his mind turning as he tried to get the timing right. I didn't interrupt him, sitting a good distance away and stifling a yawn. The slots corner was easily one of the noisiest games in the casino, where bright colours flashed to grab the attention of poor, unsuspecting victims such as him.

An irritated sigh only told me that the man had lost, and that it wasn't the first time either.

"Are you having trouble with that?" I called over from my seat. I was no expert in slots, but I knew that this man had little or no logic behind his play.

"I give up." He got onto his feet, making sure to boot the machine as he did.

Piercing blue eyes lingered on mine beneath that pink fringe. Strong build, stern but thin lips, so feminine yet the polar opposite at the same time.

I didn't stare – that was one of the rules that were essential when dealing with the ladies. And although this man clearly wasn't, I thought it to be rude to stare anyway. "May I suggest gambler's fallacy?"

The man pursed his lips. "What's that, some other rip-off game?"

"It's just a posh phrase to explain the psychology behind cognitive-behavioural attitudes." I slid off my seat and brushed past him to the slot machine. "There's also gambler's conceit and gambler's ruin. It's a fairly simple mechanism that functions in the brain that contributes to your loss."

"Hey, I'm on my lunch break and would rather not return to work in a worse mood than I am already. Speak in a language I can understand."

A cranky customer. As to be expected really, even though I didn't know exactly how many times he had lost. All I knew was that he had been on this machine even before I started to play with Gary.

"If you can understand the basic principles, it's fairly simple to win."

I knew I had caught his attention. If there wasn't something to be profited from the conversation, then there was no reason why he wouldn't be even slightly interested. "What do you mean?"

"You have to know the tricks of the trade," I rephrased, sitting at the slot machine and leaning over the back to get a better view of the man's face. It really was difficult to see past that onslaught of pink, however I kept my gaze level. "First off, it's best not to let previous games influence the next one. If you think probabilities, the events of the two tries are independent."

The stranger laughed as he turned his back to me. "I still don't hear you. Take your garbage elsewhere, loser."

I waited until he had taken a few steps before I shouted out one of the casino's loopholes. "Shame. If you were a little more polite, I would have directed you to the loose machine – the one that has a higher percentage of letting you win." I smiled as the stranger stopped in his tracks. I made sure he was looking before tapping the chair to my right. The other players were otherwise occupied, but I didn't want to risk it. "You don't have to believe me, but that one's going to be fixed in a month's time. If I were you, I'd utilise that knowledge to my full advantage."

He didn't say anything, then went on his way. I couldn't tell if I had gathered any vital information from our encounter, and I went to the 1300 meeting more inattentive than I usually was as a result of over-thinking it.

* * *

My efforts had paid off when on the third day, I saw the same man on the machine I had suggested. I couldn't see his face, but with Joker on my back, I didn't think it would be best to approach him.

It was a few days after that that I stroked up another conversation with him.

"Hello, we meet again."

I smiled radiantly as the man turned on his seat and stared at me fully. I could see behind him that he once again didn't win, but his chips rack was considerably more filled up than the last time we met.

He blinked, and I took mild interest in those long eyelashes. "Yes, it seems that way. Thanks for the tip, I suppose." He gestured behind him, and it was evident he had earned some good fortune from it.

"No problem." I leaned against the machine next to him and chose to look ahead. "I've been here for too long."

"Really? I've just started. In case you couldn't tell." He let out a derisive laugh, so soft it contrasted incredibly to what I was used to (which, nowadays, was admittedly just Joker).

"It's always hard the first time," I reassured, and that was a fact that I had come to know. The most profits come in from those who are just starting out. Several opt to never return again in fear of losing more money, but once the rules are learnt, it proves a challenge to steal the money from their pockets.

Yet why was I helping this man? I didn't even know. Perhaps I hoped to learn something from his development, a case study perhaps. If that was it, then I had to put him on the real battlefield.

"I'm taking it you haven't seen the roulette upstairs," I said. "They're something." And then something hit me, a sinking realisation that made me laugh at myself. How did I go about all these years, never forgetting the golden rule and yet here I was completely forgetting about introductions? "Call me Jack."

The stranger smiled slowly as he shook my outstretched hand. "Liam."

I acknowledged it with a nod. "Pleasure. I hope our friendship is a long one."

Liam laughed. It was such a change to what I was used to that I wanted to hear it again. It was almost like a small sigh, gentle but icy. "You're awfully polite."

"I can say the same about you. For today, anyway. Here, let me take that."

I held out my hand to take Liam's coat, and he didn't refuse. Perhaps I was idealistic into thinking this, but I wanted our relationship to start on a good foot. I lead him up the stairs to the roulette, easily my favourite part of the whole casino. We talked about the other games around the area (which I was particularly an expert on) and why I knew so much about the place. It wasn't that I didn't trust him enough to reveal my secret; I just didn't think it would be appropriate just yet.

"Ah, the roulette's meant to be that wheel?"

"Yes. There are sections on the wheel where a marble can fall into. The wheel spins one way, the marble the other. Each of them is numbered, so it's a matter of knowing where it's going to land." I nodded towards the staff member, and he gave me a rather horrified look. Undoubtedly, my face was fairly recognisable amongst the staff. "My friend would like to bet on red."

Liam and the staff member both stared at me as if I was crazy. Although the staff member was a lot more emotional about it – I could have almost mistaken Liam's as a look of bemusement if my eyes weren't so trained in noticing that he had a defensive grasp round his chips.

I smiled. "Again, you don't have to believe me. But I have a really good feeling."

"I suppose it won't hurt," he agreed as he passed a few chips over to the staff member, who went to put it accordingly to the table markings. "You were right about the machine, and I don't see why you would gain in swindling me now."

I almost laughed about the swindling comment. Perhaps I wasn't to him, but I was playing a major part in taking the money out of people's pockets in every passing second. Liam was lucky in comparison to those people. "Gambler's fallacy."

The staff member turned the roulette, the wheel spinning one way and the marble running along its circumference in the opposite direction. It was mesmerising, but what was more so was the single zero, the one green strip that was the ultimate marker to measure the roulette's speed.

"You mentioned it last time," Liam remarked. "What does it mean?"

"It's where an event occurs so many times that someone makes the assumption that it would reach change soon," I explained with a smile. "Or, to explain the psychology behind you and slots, you've been losing so many times that you think that at some point, you have to win."

Liam nodded in agreement. "Sometimes I do."

"The important thing to know about the games here is that it all depends on luck. No matter how many games you play, the end result is never affected by its previous one." I turned to lean my back against the roulette table. "There are often times where people do the exact opposite though, and would choose the more frequent event since they think that it would keep coming."

"You've lost me again," Liam admitted as he shook his head.

"I do that. As I've said previously, I've been here too long." I looked past him towards the crowds beyond. I had never realised what it was like to be with them, amongst them and socialising. I was always above, watching the money roll in without even a thought about what it was like for them.

There was shouting all around me, and I only just about felt Liam clap me on the shoulder. "It landed in red! Tell me, how did you know that?"

I shut my eyes as I left the table and made my way through the jumble of people. I was starting to feel dizzy, much worse than any amount of wine and the ground beneath me felt like it was shaking. I had to find Joker. "It was a wild guess."

Liam caught up to me with ease, pushing past everyone with far more malice than I ever could. "You've got to be joking. It's ironic, isn't it? Me the penniless assistant and you the well-dressed businessman with all the right tricks up his sleeve. Tell me, how do you do it?"

I rubbed at my eyes. Everything was too bright. I needed to get outside and get some fresh air, something to prove that I could be alive without this place. Or up, away from these people and back to a world I was familiar with. "I have to go."

"Listen."

Liam grabbed hold of my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. His touch was firm, but it didn't hurt. No one had touched any part of me save for business handshakes since my coming here, and I felt repulsed that Liam was doing just that. No one came near as we stood there, right in the middle of nowhere.

"You don't sound like you go out a lot. Shall we talk over a coffee? It's my treat."

My judgment in finding a case study had lacked tremendously, it appeared.

I grimaced, forcing my hand out of his grasp. "I have to decline that offer. I have a meeting I must attend, so I'll see you at a later date." Which I did, although I failed to mention it was in five hours' time.

"I didn't mean it in that way," Liam retorted as he discreetly rubbed his hand against his trousers. "I just get the impression you don't know anything else besides this. Really, knowing about a loose machine is the first signs you're slowly going mad."

I sighed to hide my contempt. I had lived here for five years, yet it felt an awful lot longer than that. My brain had been rattled to the point it only worked with numbers and business terminology. I had only gone out on rare occasions, perhaps to meet certain clients and to walk between the house and the casino. How Liam could pick that up, my first assumption was that he had heard rumours of me from the staff.

Or perhaps that was paranoia that seemed to kick in more and more often nowadays.

"If you'll excuse me, I am needed elsewhere."

Regardless, I was curious about him. He had a vibe about him that was different to everyone else. He was intriguing, and he showed a reasonable display of interest in me too. Although I had spoken of friendship, even though it was strictly prohibited for me to have anything beyond a professional one, I wanted to know him more.

I found myself searching the sea of heads for the faintest trace of pink. I often felt the conversations we had after that were always new, and it provided stimulation in my bland life of being on top of the game.

I didn't realise then that I had become victim of the gambler's fallacy myself before every encounter, where I thought something useful would eventually show itself.


	11. Wild Card

I had lost count how many times I had talked to Liam. I took him on a grand tour of the casino, taught him about the games that I myself hadn't even touched. I explained how to keep a level head whilst gambling, how to analyse a man whilst he shuffled the cards and did their job in distracting any sort of attention with idle chatter or off-putting moustaches.  
  
It wasn't long until I took him into one of the VIP rooms, which were more commonly reserved for more superior guests and people in dire need to be away from the noise.  
  
And it wasn't long until I had forgotten that Joker was more or less always on my back, even when he was elsewhere.  
  
I had covered him up as being the silent bodyguard of mine, and Liam bought it with surprising amicability. Joker wasn't quite so convinced.  
  
"Master Ludor, 1400 draws nearer. I suggest we pick up the pace."  
  
I grinned as I outstretched on the sofa. "I am aware of that, and I stand by what I've said before. He can wait."  
  
Liam looked between us both. "If you are needed elsewhere, then I don't see what's holding you back. I do know where the door is."  
  
"Don't concern yourself," I reassured him, eying the chess board that mocked me. Liam had made a particularly bold move in advancing the queen a little too far. "There's still plenty of time for us to finish the game. How about it?" I kept one hand on my chin as I brought forward a bishop, picking up my wineglass as I withdrew my hand.  
  
"If you insist," Liam said, giving the board a fleeting look as he tried to come up with the best move. "Although, the way you're constantly in meetings and you don't seem bothered…it worries me. You must be earning good money to rent out a room like this, that's all I can say."  
  
I could almost feel Joker stare at me intently as he too awaited my take on the problem. "Comes with the job description." I couldn't say much for Liam, but considering he always came in during his lunch breaks and in the evening, his workplace was lenient in comparison to mine. He often sported jeans of some sort and often accessorised his appearance by wearing bold shirts.  
  
Me, I was the same almost every day. Uptight suit, plain old ties, or the occasional cravat if I felt like it. It was standard procedure to look presentable to the ladies and the important clients. But most of all I dressed to please my father, who detested anything other than the tailor-made merchandise. And he would know if my sleeves were even a centimetre too short.  
  
"Well boy, I would hate to be you." Liam gestured for me to decide my move, which I did after sipping from my glass and replacing it on the table. "Meetings and that have never been my strong point. I like getting down to business, if you know what I mean. Practical things."  
  
I smiled nonchalantly. "It's fairly easy once you know the right words and how to deliver the information you want," I explained. "It just takes a lot of time to perfect it."  
  
"Sounds like it's been drilled into your head so much you're talking in the same language even out of the workplace." He let out an exasperated sigh as he leaned forwards in his armchair slightly. "Can't you lighten up a bit and complain about work colleagues, or complain when you're forced overtime?"  
  
Even though it was tiny, Joker snickered in the background at Liam's comments. True, my life revolved around the casino and ergo meant I was working overtime constantly, but it had all become a way of life for me. It didn't bother me that I never really ventured out or that I saw the same things every day – I had either gotten used to it or the newspapers gave me all the information I wanted to know.  
  
"I don't see the point in consoling to other people about your own problems. I'm quite satisfied of where I am at this point in life."  
  
Liam laughed. "Yet you're here just as much as I am. Tell me, what draws you here?"  
  
If I had the time to think about it, I would have told Liam all about my heritage. We had known each other for more than a few months now, and I would have been able to entrust him with my secret. Perhaps it would have been a rash decision, but the way I saw things, there was nothing wrong with a little too much risk.  
  
But I heard Joker take out a pocket watch with as much noise as he could make out of it. He was trying to tell me that time was running short, but I pretended not to take notice of it.  
  
Regardless, I told a white lie. "Family matters make things pretty complex." On one side, my father wanted me to absorb everything about the casino my brain could manage. And on the opposite side, maybe I was trying to stimulate myself so I didn't spend those idle hours thinking about the other side of the family.  
  
"I know what you mean," Liam was quick to agree. "What is it – rowdy children? Your wife wearing the trousers? Or is it one of those catastrophic phases where your parents or her parents don't like the idea of you getting married and they totally bear a grudge? Since whatever it is, you can go ahead and let off some steam."  
  
I shook my head as I took up a glass chess piece. The horse's neck arched perfectly with the two fingers that I was holding it with, the blueness tantalising as the light hit it. So deep that it was how I imagined a frozen lake to be. "It's the sort of thing where an outsider's opinion isn't called for."  
  
The thin layer of ice separated us. Our worlds were completely different, and there was no point in making the two collide. We both wanted to know each other, but revealing as little about ourselves as well.  
  
That was what made our encounters worthwhile. We could never touch, just see each other through the ice and laugh as we spent our conversations deciphering which one of us was drowning.  
  
Liam gave a small smile as he pried the horse from my fingers and put it back on its original square. "You're cheating on her, that's got to be it."  
  
I almost groaned in despair. I hadn't had any sort of physical contact with women, much less have a relationship with one. He could come out with the most absurd things, but the sound of impatient tapping put me back on track.  
  
"Joker, I really don't want to repeat myself."  
  
He gave me a cold look, but replaced the pocket watch back into the depths of his blazer.  
  
"Liam, it's more a parent problem. Bad income, red numbers." I smiled. It was a rather impressive lie, and one that wasn't entirely false. The casino did have a particularly bad customer rate around summer, and red numbers was what it flourished on.  
  
The look of realisation dawned on his face. "So you're in it for the money too? I would have thought that you were really well-off, looking at this room and the meeting stuff you have going on."  
  
I frowned as I channelled all my concentration to the chess game. "Do we have a common goal?"  
  
"Definitely," he said straight away. "Where I work at the moment gives me really bad wages, and I need to get out of here really soon. Casino's the perfect place to get a lot out without too much effort…Once you taught me the rules, of course."  
  
"Where are you planning to go?" I asked. As far as I knew, there wasn't any sort of place far away where someone would insist on gambling so many days of the week. Were the travel expenses around here really that hefty?  
  
He shrugged. "Someplace a little less dull. It was tolerable when I got here, but now it's bringing me closer to madness by the day. Why is it always so dark all the time? Why are the people here so…ordinary? I want to see other places – who knows how many worlds are out there, waiting to be discovered."  
  
"Worlds?" I repeated. "It's Traverse Town all the way down the districts, and not much else."  
  
Liam grinned slyly, leaning across the table to raise his wineglass between us. I knew for a fact that he hadn't taken a single sip in the full hour we were here. "I mean it. There are other places beyond this one, worlds where there's daylight and _interesting_ people. I used to live in a place called Radiant Garden, but it was devoured by its own darkness."  
  
I blinked. "You're not from around here?"  
  
He rolled his eyes as though I had asked a stupid question. "Pink hair isn't common here, is it? It was considered normal in Radiant Garden. It was rife with colour. Not any more, of course."  
  
"Why's that?" I asked incredulously. Did he really think I could so readily believe him? It all sounded farfetched to me.  
  
"No one knows. Just that it went black, and only a handful of civilians escaped in a machine called a Gummi Ship. It ended up here, and you can imagine my excitement of stepping onto a brand new world." He spluttered almost immediately after gulping down a fair portion of the glass' contents. "How can you drink this stuff?"  
  
"Wine is the blood of a noble man. Show it some respect." With an air of finality, I showed him how to do it properly. Slowly and leisurely.  
  
Liam wrinkled his nose as he set the glass down. "Can't say it's really my sort of thing." He narrowed his eyes as he pushed the glass as far away as he could.  
  
I couldn't help but laugh. Ever since I had been conceived, I was deemed a sinner. Part of my blood was that of a man who mastered the Art of temptation, dragging so many down after him. That was enough for me to have a reserved spot in hell.  
  
I didn't drink wine because I respected that man. I devoured his very existence and desired his blood. I despised the man who found that punishing sinners was righteous. Our fate was sealed if we were born at the wrong time or if we made a bad choice. If he was to punish us, then we might as well defy him. It came as no surprise that wine was the most popular beverage in the casino. Here, there was no one to judge sinners.  
  
A glorious formula of lust, greed and gluttony – that was the true nature of wine. And quite possibly a side of me that I wasn't eager to show Liam.  
  
"So what are you doing with yourself now?" I demanded.  
  
"It wasn't that long ago that I grew tired of the mundane lifestyle." Liam tossed his head as he glanced over his shoulder pensively. "I had that thrill, and now I want nothing more than to explore. There's absolutely nothing here that will keep me away from my goal, which is to get a Gummi Ship of my own and travel."  
  
I shook my head as I took another sip. It was bitter against my tongue, but I didn't pull a face. Unlike tea, wine put me on edge. "The whole concept sounds ludicrous."  
  
He laughed half-heartedly. "True, but I wasn't the only one rescued from Radiant Garden. If you were in town some months ago, you would have seen us land or at least heard of it. People spoke of it for weeks."  
  
"I must have been very busy," I said swiftly. Perhaps at the back of my mind, I remembered reading something about it in one of those morning papers. I didn't know for certain, and it was hard for me to believe something which didn't have concrete proof.  
  
"It was hard settling in, but my employer was nice enough to take me on. He said that he needed help in the shop, and that he wouldn't turn down an extra pair of hands."  
  
I nodded. "Yet the wages clearly aren't satisfying if you're here so often."  
  
"Yeah, Charles said business was bad, and that my pay would be better if I worked elsewhere. But no one else wanted help, so I had no choice in the end."  
  
I bit my tongue. Hard.  
  
It all made sense to me, why I had picked Liam out of the crowd. It was fate that he had the one connection of the outside world that I wanted to know about more than anything. I did my best to contain my sudden interest, especially since Joker's green eyes now bore into the back of my neck and was far from friendly.  
  
"What kind of shop do you work at?" I demanded. I had to know, before Joker made his move.  
  
Liam waved a hand lightly. "Nothing interesting. Just a standard item shop, with those big heavy boxes of potions and that."  
  
I was hungry to know more. How was my family? Were they concerned about me in the slightest? And maybe on one of those days where Joker wasn't on my back, could I sneak out with him to see them personally?  
  
How different did Charles look? Had his voice grown deeper? Had he matured over the years and moved on from the dependence that he had on me? The memories of our short childhood rushed back to me, so vivid that I could hear him next to me as we laughed and cried together. I could even smell the musty stench of rotting wood at the back of the store, where Charles and I often played boats with empty cardboard boxes.  
  
A hand on my shoulder snapped me out of my trance. Joker's gaze was stern, and I knew that my time was up, and no further delays could be arranged.  
  
I sighed as I got off the sofa. "Your king has been in check for some time now."  
  
I made to gather the pieces, but Liam got there first and gave a small grin. "I've been holding this for a while too, and this may be the salesman side of me talking, but you'd look great with piercings. Anywhere really – it'll give a wild look about you."  
  
Whether he had seen my father beforehand, I didn't want to know.


	12. One Suit Short

12\. One Suit Short

Hadrian was a man who didn't enjoy keeping people waiting. He firmly believed that being punctual was of the asset to set a lasting impression; being tardy was simply inexcusable. For me, I preferred to be dead on time and often caused a fair bit of grief to Joker in the process.  
  
When I knocked the door to my father's study and entered, it wasn't a complete surprise that his growing frown was that of discontent.  
  
"Jack, take a seat."  
  
I recalled that being his first sentence to me, and although I was initially scared back then, I had grown used to how my father behaved towards me. What Liam had said about me also applied to him. Not only did he talk the same language as if we were still talking business, but he was also undeniably distant.  
  
I obeyed, drawing the chair out and settling to get as comfortable as I could. Joker stood a little behind me, leaning against the back of the chair somewhat. "Are you after the figures?"  
  
He brushed his papers aside in an attempt to clear the place up. "No, it's about you."  
  
"Me?" I was curious why my father had the need to meet me before our awkward dinner together, but I knew almost as soon as I asked. Apparently it was fairly easy for me to fall short of his expectations, and there were only a few things that I failed to do this time. This time though, it wasn't work related.  
  
"I realise that I taught you that communication with the customers is a valuable way to get loyalty. I can only hope that your emotions have clouded your judgment."  
  
I crossed one leg over the other nonchalantly. "Liam is simply a client I feel has the qualities not many other people possess. He has the attitude of someone expecting more than his capabilities, and instead of being hindered by that fact, he insists on coming back."  
  
"Is that partly because of you?" Hadrian snapped, and I noticed the creases that started to emerge between his eyebrows. Although he didn't lose his temper often, it was a situation I would rather avoid. My inkling was that the paperwork on his desk had set him off to a bad start, and he was close to taking it out on me. "Does he keep coming back because you manipulated him to do that?"  
  
I shook my head. "That's an absurd assumption to make. In most occasions, I'm the one approaching him. Liam doesn't think much of me at all, which leads me to the point that we have a strictly professional approach."  
  
Joker snickered, which was enough to shake the shaky foundation between me and Hadrian.  
  
"Professionals don't have such a cavalier lifestyle. It would be my pleasure to report everything I saw during your friendly game of chess." In normal terms, that would have sounded like the typical grass. But I had come to realise (often the hard way) that Joker had the knack to summarise a single five minutes in as much detail imaginable and have several accurate tangents.  
  
In short, he was planning to set out the whole issue on the table and it would do nothing to remedy the situation at hand.  
  
"Joker, your contribution won't be necessary," I said firmly, not even bothering to give him a pointed look. "I am fully aware of the risks that I have taken to get to the position I have, and I request to be responsible for my poor judgment if all fails."  
  
Hadrian closed his eyes thoughtfully. "Jack, you've already failed. The regular clients have noticed your closeness with Mister Salvato, and they're disappointed in your actions." He opened his eyes a fraction. "They've grown suspicious of your change of character, and that you've become too involved with him."  
  
I smiled a little. "I won't deny that my actions have been overboard, and I will apologise to them immediately."  
  
"That's not the issue, Jack." Hadrian's eyes were stern, and I detested having the same eyes as him. They were so bright and menacing the ferocity was quite possibly more comparable to a wild animal. "There has been the hushed assumption that you've been showing mild favouritism to Mister Salvato, and that you've been sneaking money under the table." He arched an eyebrow. "Would you care to elaborate why they would think that?"  
  
I shook my head, afraid of what would come next.  
  
A small sigh escaped Hadrian, and he took a sheet of paper from his right. "Mister Salvato first started coming here a few months, and it wasn't long after that that you picked him out. What I want to know is why."  
  
Lost for words, I shook my head again. I was entirely guilty in the matter, and it was moments like this a gentleman should accept the blame. Normally with an apology, but I didn't see why I should. I had acted beyond both our imagination, however I didn't think it was worthy for me to admit my past actions as the wrong thing to do.  
  
"Not only that, but a few days later he started gambling on the loose machine. I have tried to think of many excuses to explain why you didn't give him the hint, but it was a lot harder than it sounded." He didn't even have to say that he was disappointed of my behaviour. He just talked flatly, and that was enough to show that he couldn't understand how my five years of learning the ropes had resulted to something as nonsensical as this. It was all there in his expression, the hardened look that I had taken years to muster myself. The look of a businessman who would do anything to get what he wanted.  
  
"I thought it appropriate to offer him some assistance," I explained. "I noticed immediately that Liam wasn't the sort of person who would let his guard drop around a stranger, so I had to say something to get him to trust me. It is unethical, but bribery can get a long way."  
  
"Agreed," Hadrian mused. "So if you feel obliged to be responsible for your actions, what have you learnt from them?"  
  
I grinned broadly. With the right words, the matter could be put behind us. "Outsiders are one suit short. They don't have the financial support to wear clothes that aren't different. They lack the cunning of the Spades, yet Liam takes interest in what I have to say and never criticises it. He babbles about nonsense and considers it average. Altogether, they don't have the full packet of cards in their pockets."  
  
Hadrian nodded grimly. "If I was to adopt your theory, I would come to the conclusion that all clients who walk through those doors have their Spades suit on. They bear arms against us, under the false impression that they can outwit us."  
  
"That's what makes Liam different to what you assume, Sir." I got up from my seat and circled the table. "He's an honest man with an incredible thirst for adventure. He told me of other worlds besides our own, how he thinks this casino is his way forwards. He doesn't see the casino as something to challenge, but some place that would ultimately make his life better."  
  
He stared at me, and I stared back. Any outsider would have thought that we were nearly identical, minus the fact I had chosen to have a goatee as a status symbol whilst my father had a full-grown beard. But in fact, if one was to look at our personalities, it was hard to believe that we were related at all.  
  
"Jack, the very concept of other worlds is incredibly naïve. As the heir of the Silver Lynx, you shouldn't fall for such a ridiculous idea. The press can go a long way, and there are people who would go all the way and actually think they were involved." He looked away from me as he brought the sheet of paper closer to his eyes. "I hope you're not one who is a suit short."  
  
I laughed nervously. I had made up the fantasy of the suits and their attributes to further understand everything human. Spades were calculating, Hearts were compassionate, Clubs were knowledgeable and Diamonds were the ones that maintained order.  
  
Of course, it was clear that Hadrian was referring to the Diamonds. Thinking of other worlds brought chaos in my mind, and it didn't do me well to put a great deal of thought into it.  
  
"I'm not," I reassured him.  
  
"Good." He leaned forwards in his seat to read the papers already on the desk. "I strongly advise that you keep your distance from Mister Salvato in the future. It would put you at a big disadvantage to lose a suit after coming so far."  
  
It wasn't a statement, but a prompt. I had my doubts, but his orders were first and foremost what I should be obeying. Even though I had just discovered Liam's association with the family I had grown up with, all that had to be pushed to the side. I had so many questions to ask him, and being restricted from seeing him would put a dent into everything I had in mind.  
  
As my father said, I couldn't afford to lose the Diamonds, not now. I wouldn't be surprised if Hadrian had made this statement so that his sentence was unbearably impeccable in timing. He had chosen the right moment to break the news, so that he could monitor whether I was faithful to him or my other family.  
  
Liam had made me lose my way. Being friendly with him gave me no future, and knowledge of the family who had no reason to think about me didn't matter in the slightest. With my father's opinion and therefore this casino as a whole, there was meaning for my life.  
  
I nodded and made my exit, feeling considerably worse than when I had entered.


	13. Are You Game?

I had never been a morning person when I was younger, but that was soon beaten out of me. Joker scowled at me the minute it was past seven o'clock and I had no choice but to get used to his morning antics.  
  
"Your tea and newspapers," Joker said to me curtly as he placed the items on my bedside table. He didn't linger for long, attending to the folded suit I had worn the previous day and gathering it in his arms. My father didn't pay much attention to me now, running the casino in his own way and letting me study for myself. I didn't dare get reacquainted with Liam, even on those countless days I saw him at the roulette, or leaning over the first floor banister, in much the same way as I did.  
  
I sat myself up against the pillows, letting my eyes rest on the newspapers as I mentally debated which one deserved my attention more. I settled with the Financial News.  
  
Joker pushed his glasses further up his nose as he stood upright. "You have an 1100 meeting with the Harrisons, then the rest of the day will be dedicated for the organisation regarding the preparations for the party this coming Saturday."  
  
I grimaced as I rested the newspaper onto my lap. "Don't remind me."  
  
"Apologies, Master Ludor."  
  
Joker and I had never been close, but he was around me more and more. I like to think it was Hadrian's wish rather than because Joker wanted to snoop into my life. It was evident that Hadrian no longer needed guidance considering his age and experience, and perhaps he felt the family aide ought to be round me more as my time was approaching. It was inevitable that Joker and I gradually came to a mutual understanding and grew accustomed to the sight of each other. I had come to terms with his views, for I had no one else to fall back on.  
  
I turned a page idly, the figures not getting into my brain the way it normally did every morning. The shares and tax rates didn't seem a great deal different from yesterday. The coming Saturday was in celebration of my twenty-first birthday coming up, and I was far from prepared for it. Being the heir of the casino didn't mean it was the standard party; there were expectations, standards to meet and exceed.  
  
To be honest, I didn't think I had the potential to do either. I had felt that during the lead-up, but how I felt had nothing to do with it. If I played a convincing role, the rest would simply fall into place.  
  
"Joker, run by me what I need to do for the party."  
  
He gave me a quizzical look, but had to oblige. I was his superior. "The purpose is to gain potential strong allies who would be interested in working alongside you in the future. You would have to demonstrate to them that their cause isn't being wasted on you, and that you will succeed further than what they can ever imagine from you."  
  
I frowned. "How do I prove that? I doubt several games of poker would relieve them."  
  
"It's entirely up to you," he chose to reply as he got out a suit from the wardrobe. He made to lay it on the settee at the foot of my bed. "That's the beauty of it all. It's a chance to show them who you really are, not what Mister Ludor has taught you."  
  
I took the cup and saucer into my hands, making sure not to spill any on the covers. "If they don't like me, what's the worst they can do?"  
Joker shrugged. "On the most extreme scenario, they could close the place down and taint your name so badly you'd be on the streets eating rats." He laughed to himself, where only the mildest shiver went down my spine. "It's do or die."  
  
"I see," I muttered, gazing pensively into the tea for some sort of inspiration. Almost six years of learning about the business and the market, yet it suddenly felt like I didn't know a thing at all. Worried didn't even begin to cover what I was thinking.  
  
As always, Joker noticed my hesitation. "I have confidence in you."  
  
"Your certainty is most reassuring." I said into my cup. "I have reason to think otherwise."  
  
"It's a given that you've never had a chance to show your true colours, but they'll give you time before they pull the plug. Madam Rose has already lent you her full support, from what I've seen."  
  
I scoffed. "I'd like you to dismiss that observation." I recalled of the time she had given none too subtle hints of how to change the place, how the casino could be further improved to, in her words, 'invite more suckers'. She didn't think of our customers as people, but as an investment.  
  
And I had said that I would consider her proposals. So long as I had the bargaining chip, she couldn't lay a finger on me.  
  
"You must remember that it's imperative to search for a wife as well," Joker reminded me as he attended to the windows next, drawing back the curtains and letting the winter light stream into my room.  
  
The very sight of outdoors made my legs reach closer to my stomach. I held onto my cup tighter as I brought it to my lips and drank some of the hot beverage.  
  
"Let's just say that Madam Rose doesn't meet the requirements that I consider to be necessary of a companion." I replaced the teacup and accompanying saucer back on the bedside table and went to the normal newspaper.  
  
Joker laughed, although it was more to himself. "Master Ludor, the only qualities that a wife should have is to bear a healthy heir and to understand that his one purpose is to one day inherit. Any other qualities you have in mind shouldn't be much beyond that. Unless there are certain…physical features?" he added curiously, and I couldn't resist a wry smirk.  
  
"I'm not that shallow," I said bluntly, keeping my eyes level on his back as he busied himself with the curtain. "I just have the impression that it's too forced, that's all. A relationship like that should take time to build, and time to get started in the first place."  
  
"Complexity won't get you anywhere." Joker sounded so certain. He knew exactly what I meant, and I didn't think that today was the first time we talked of marital arrangements. "You're going to be twenty-one, and it's an age where we need to be concerned about your future. Once you take over, you won't have the time to find the girl of your dreams. Needless to say, you could be assassinated as early as next week. It's just another business call."  
  
I sighed, fingering the newspaper and not making any effort to read the information it boasted. "I dislike being rushed."  
  
"It's a fate you chose to continue regardless," Joker pointed out. "If you can't choose, then I'll have to be the one to step in. What criteria do you have in mind when you mentioned it's not appearance?"  
  
I brushed the newspapers further down the bed exasperatedly, swinging my legs out the covers and getting onto my feet. Inwardly my body shivered, protesting and screaming at me to get back into the warmth. I prowled the room in time with my rapid thoughts. "How should I know? I've seen countless people, each of them just as despondent as the next. I only approach them for business, and they only take interest in me because of my status."  
  
"And you want to know someone who sees more than that," Joker completed. He tilted his head slightly as he separated a curtain from the mesh. "You don't realise how much it means to the ladies when you give them your full attention, Master Ludor. You're a gentleman to them, and I'd personally like to contribute that that's probably more than they've ever experienced before. They appreciate your company because outside, in the real world, their lives _are_ miserable and despondent. Although it's second nature to you, they feel like they matter."  
  
"I'm hardly a gentleman," I retorted as I paused at the settee. I stared at the pile of clothes hard, then I took the tie into my grip. "I don't like the green. It looks revolting."  
  
He turned round as he fixed the other curtain in position, his eyes resting on the tie. "Certainly."  
  
I let him take it, and I watching him delve into the wardrobe for a replacement. "How did Father do it? You were there, unless I am mistaken."  
  
Joker took out a darker green one, and I shook my head immediately. "That would be correct, Master Ludor." He didn't elaborate until he had retrieved a smooth blue cravat next.  
  
"Pass that here," I ordered as I unbuttoned my pyjama top at record speed. I held out a hand to receive it, nodding at Joker to continue.  
  
"Madam Wells met your father on his twenty-first birthday. She was amongst many who wanted his attention. But she never got the chance to talk to him properly during the evening, for Mister Ludor had set his sights on the business' welfare as opposed to a wife. I recall having a conversation much like ours with your father, but he was stubborn." He stepped back as I proceeded to do up the shirt, which was so slippery on my shoulders I knew it had to be silk.  
  
"He always did strike me as that sort of man." Especially considering the fact he had quite happily abandoned any hope of being a true father for the sake of some family heirloom.  
  
"Madam Wells came to the casino at specific times of the month, naturally the times she was fertile. She managed to get Mister Ludor on his own several times, and sometimes the entrances were…rather unorthodox," Joker recounted, and to my relief, he thankfully didn't elaborate on that part. "She didn't share her story with him. She didn't care about the status or the wealth that he possessed. At the time, she was severely depressed and the only thing on her mind was to have meaning for her life."  
  
I arched an eyebrow. It was hard to imagine my mother being so desperate, for my memory only remembered her being the sanest of our family. Had she suffered so much before to gain the existence that she wanted?  
  
"How come they chose not to get married?" I asked next.  
  
He shook his head. "They both agreed that marriage would only bring about complication. Madam Wells didn't feel it proper to be here longer than necessary, and Mister Ludor wanted to focus solely on the business. His father was sorely disappointed, but he too came around. Although you were born out of wedlock, there were certain loopholes we knew of that would enable you to inherit."  
  
"Oh." It was all I could say to refrain from asking more questions. Although the topic was interesting, my respect for my mother was dropping dramatically. I snatched the cravat from the settee, tying it around my neck with the assistance of the full-length mirror.  
  
"So, what are your standards?" Joker asked me again.  
  
I waited until I had finished with the cravat and turned my attention to the waistcoat before replying. "I just have a notion. If I meet that someone, I'll know."  
  
Joker sighed. "Well, if I take over, I can't say that it'll be the one you're looking for."  
  
"Then don't bother," I cut in. "I have the impression that she's someone who needs time to warm up to me. I'll just leave it to Lady Luck to see if I can recognise her."  
  
"Very well, if that's what you have in mind," Joker commented. "Saturday would be the best chance to pick out who would be worthy, and you're capable enough to juggle business matters and the ladies." He smirked as he withdrew a card from his top pocket and tossed it to me.  
  
I caught it expertly from the number of times Joker did this to me and turned it over to reveal the ten of hearts.  
  
"Are you game?"


	14. King

I dreamt of him. I wasn't really the sort of person who had dreams, but this one was different. I finally saw him after six years, yet our reunion was far from touching.  
I awoke in cold sweat, still fervently recollecting what I had felt and seen. He was there, happily talking to me and telling me everything that he had to say. It was like old times, as if he had forgotten that I had discarded him for my future or that he never knew that that was what I had done. I hadn't felt so relieved, just tranquil in listening to his words and letting everything except us slip away.  
  
I struggled to find my slippers in the dark. I rarely ventured around the corridors at night, if at all. It was a long time since I had woken up in the middle of the night, sneaking about the silence and penetrating its peace. I wanted nothing more than a little light to keep the eerie shadows at bay, but I chose not to. It would have felt unnatural to ruin its serenity now.  
  
I didn't know where I was going, only that I was shivering slightly from the lack of the dressing gown that I hadn't touched upon arrival. My hand felt for my stomach, and I frowned. It still stung just below my diaphragm, even though there physically wasn't anything there. It was still stuck in my head how I had doubled over, and Charles had simply watched me bleed.  
  
Dreams were supposed to be messages from the subconscious. What was the message of mine?  
  
I approached the end of the hallway, letting a hand touch the pane that had frosted over in the early morning. The Ludors lived in the casino, granted, but in a separate building. It was from here that I could see it, the Silver Lynx in its sleeping state. Luminous colours still danced on the walls of various estates, but the unbearable racket was simply nothing and the casino existed as just the bare bone with the skin picked off. And it wasn't a sight that I was accustomed to.  
  
That was what I had chosen all those years ago. And worse, I hadn't had the chance to look back at the damage I had caused. Or rather, I didn't _want_ to see the damage I had caused.  
  
My eyes narrowed as I thought about the dream again. There had to be a reason why I had it tonight of all nights. Did my brother hate me, or was he willing to forgive me? There was no way for me to know after all this time, and perhaps he was finally reaching out for me.  
  
It was only several hours before I make the claim of being the Silver Lynx's heir. And as I ran through my speech I was scheduled to do, there was so much of it I was uncertain of.  
  
It started with, "I want to take the time to thank you all for coming". Would I really be thankful? Would some small part of me be looking in the crowd for someone I recognised, or worse yet would the room know instantly I was not the man they wanted to inherit?  
  
And, the closing statement? "I look forward to working with you all, and commit myself to the Silver Lynx when my time comes". The future held nothing but false promises – why, therefore, was I making one?  
  
I didn't know what to do with myself. I was confident of succeeding my father in ruling the casino, but now one insignificant dream effectively turned everything upside down. Just when I had thought I had moved on, it all flew into my face tenfold.  
  
"Master Ludor?"  
  
If it wasn't for his height, I wouldn't have been able to tell who had managed to sneak up behind me. The winter light didn't do a great deal in illuminating the hallway.  
  
I acknowledged Joker with a nod before resuming to the window. It certainly did have a better view than it was out my bedroom window. "I expected nothing less from you. Were you patrolling?"  
  
A small laugh was enough to tell me I had missed the mark. "I was resting." He was polite enough not to be in range of my peripheral vision, however I could still see half his body using the window. The other half was hidden by the rather exquisite curtains.  
  
I was fully aware of the definition of resting. Joker, along with the rest of his family, was trained to be an elite bodyguard. As well as offering advice, he guaranteed 24 hours protection. He was the only one (or perhaps along with several other members of the family) that assured us Ludors would survive until the morning. Joker's definition of resting was like a dolphin – one half of the brain slept whilst the other kept all senses open. Similar to what I was seeing through the reflection of the window.  
  
"And when you rest, have you ever had any dreams?"  
  
Joker's gaze hardened somewhat. "I used to. What are you implying?"  
  
I let the issue hang. It was plausible to believe that if I told him of mine, he would want to know more about it. Offer me guidance on something that I should be doing myself. There were some secrets that were best kept to oneself, and consoling with someone else only complicated matters.  
  
"I was curious about if you had any sort of objective you had wanted to fulfil, perhaps when you were younger." Being from a family that relied on lineage, he suffered the same fate as I had. Instead of co-owning an item shop with my brother, I was the heir of an infamous casino. What had Joker sacrificed to be here? "A certain job profession that wasn't suitable for your talents, or several grandchildren," I continued.  
  
I saw him blink and look away. "What my aspirations were doesn't matter. I live for today, and words can't express how grateful I am to see my mission through almost three generations."  
  
Being with Joker meant being on the offence. Even if it meant hypocrisy. "Your secret's safe with me. What was your childhood dream?"  
  
"And what would you do with the additional information, Jack?" he countered a little too swiftly. "Would you judge me if I was to tell you I wanted to play the recorder?"  
  
I laughed softly to myself. The way the remark had come out, it was evident jokes didn't suit Joker at all, despite the title. Not the ordinary jokes anyway – he was perfectly adept in making pranks about serious matters. "I have no obligation to tell you how I would react. Likewise, you have no obligation to grant me that information."  
  
He sighed, and I knew I had won. Joker had the right to retain information, but it was vital for him to listen to my orders, even if it meant delving into his deepest secrets. Any moment from now, I could claim the name of King. "I had a lot of aspirations. I wanted to visit my parents more than once a year, and I wanted to live a life without deceiving everyone day in and day out. Our training made us skilled liars and capable killers, but ultimately they shaped us into people that we weren't inside. We were brainwashed to think that that was how we were born, and how we had only one reason of living." He paused dramatically as he made to clean his glasses. "To honour our ancestors."  
  
I shut my eyes. "You wanted to escape," I summarised. That was all there was to it.  
  
"They were the immature thoughts I had before I was appointed as Joker," he elaborated. "My intentions have changed since then. My childhood aspirations serve as nothing but a limitation in my actions. The purpose of my life isn't to honour my ancestors, but to protect the future generations of the Ludor family."  
  
Nice recovery.  
  
However, the frown that tugged at my lips failed to agree. "How do I know that you're not being dishonest to me now?"  
  
He lowered his head slightly. "That's up to you to decide."  
  
"You got me there," I chose to reply. "You've been around since my grandfather was King. There is no reason whatsoever why I should believe everything that comes from you other than because those before me have trusted you."  
  
I turned my head a fraction. "In fact, today seems an appropriate time for you to earn my trust. I had taken your advice for the simple reason that I didn't know what to do with myself, but all that will change. I will be twenty-one, and you will serve me. Show me how much you're willing to follow me."  
  
The corridor was still, and we were the only two breathing it and taking in its monotonous state. What should have been moonlight, neon from the Silver Lynx streamed across the floor and painted our faces in hues of purple and green. Our elongated shadows touched, but we were still far from being on the same side.  
  
Joker didn't say anything at first. Then, very slowly, he kept his head down as he got down onto one knee. My father's subordinate and the father before his, finally accepting my place in the world of the same social standing, not my father's son. And as I acknowledged the presentation unfolding before me, the approaching certainty of winning was bittersweet on my mouth.  
  
He was mine.  
  
"Until this humble servant draws its last breath, I will serve you through the tough and the harsh. It will be my honour."

* * *

I gave Joker a good surprise when he entered my room for the morning routine. He has the usual tray of tea and newspapers, but it was so strange how it all was now that I was standing rather than in the folds of my bed.  
  
Joker recovered quickly, as expected. "I'm taking it you never went back to sleep?" he asked as he traipsed the room to a small table by the window. It seated two, but the company had never been more than one. That was how isolated it was to the outside world.  
  
"I had a dream," I explained as I didn't look up from my lonely game of solitaire. "I haven't had one for a long time, and it still impresses me how vivid it was."  
  
I took a card from the sofa and drummed it on my chin. Where to put it?  
  
Joker picked up on the sour mood that emanated around me. "In dreams, your subconscious shapes the area and the people within it. If it doesn't make sense, it's not meant to."  
  
I couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh. "If dreams are the desires of the subconscious, is there a way to know?"  
  
Much to my annoyance, he laughed. Even after hours of being awake, the laugh was still harsh against my eardrums. "You're better off asking someone else." He straightened and let his green eyes scan my outfit: a white suit with a light gold waistcoat that emphasised the upturned collar. "Your cravat."  
  
I moved away from the lonely game of solitude and let him arrange it as he saw fit. Despite it being white like the majority of my attire, Joker had the knack to emphasise it.  
  
My thoughts of Charles wouldn't leave me. Was he happy for me, or did he detest me? Was there a way for me to know what he wanted, what _I_ want?  
  
"May I ask why you changed the waistcoat?" Joker looked down at me expectantly.  
  
Most of the suit was decided beforehand for today, the exception naturally being the waistcoat. That too was originally white. I was still thinking about the dream when I had gotten dressed, and I made the decision that gold would disguise the blood at least marginally better than white. I would have to change into the evening suit in a few hours anyway. "Does it matter?" I challenged.  
  
Joker shrugged. "Not particularly." He took the ends of the cravat out the waistcoat and tugged at it. I almost stumbled onto the floor with the sheer force. "I thought that you might want to try your excuse with me before Mister Ludor comments on it."  
  
I instinctively grinned, and the edges of Joker's mouth twitched as he almost mirrored me. "I didn't like the style. That's all there is to it."  
  
Joker nodded sagely as he took off my cravat altogether. "Absolutely nothing to do with your dream then?"  
  
"You would be correct," I said sternly as I flipped over another card. Drat, another unhelpful card to add to the pile. "Although, out of curiosity, do you miss dreaming?"  
  
Joker laid the cravat on the sofa's arm and made to fold it again. "I wouldn't say so. They serve to confuse more than help. If you want to be King, I would suggest you too discard of them."  
  
I didn't look up from my game, in case the look on my face made me out to be weaker than I already was. I placed a hand on top of the pile that comprised of the completed suit of Hearts. Discard the dream and everything that came with it. To be King, I had to look forwards.


	15. Bluffing

The evening, to put no finer point on it, dragged. Madam Rose had obviously drank too much, and I had the impression she had a few drinks even before she arrived. She told me all sorts of bizarre improvements she had for the casino and hanging off me the way a child did. It wasn't such fun when she was clearly heavier than she looked (and she was already a large lady).  
  
She was the sort of person I wanted to maintain a good business relationship with, nothing more.  
  
The next woman I took the time to sit with was when it was approaching 8:30. She was petite with considerable features, but I knew for a fact she wasn't drunk. And that was a start at least.  
  
However, I didn't anticipate take two to be much better to be the first. The events unfolded that she had a husband who had gambled their life insurance away, and the third had the equally hard tale of trying to clear the debt her father left behind.  
  
By the time I decided on the fourth, I had an idea of what to expect.  
  
"Good evening. Is this space taken?"  
  
She blinked through her long fringe, then lowered her feet from the chair. I murmured my gratitude as I occupied the free space, making sure not to sit too close or too far from her.  
  
"Are you enjoying tonight?" I asked, letting her examine my features without me staring right back at her. I let my gaze wander around the roulette table, where the customers were enjoying a rather rowdy game. It wasn't too far from normal.  
  
She pursed her lips. "Yes, although I am quite positive you were the heir of this casino. You gave a speech earlier."  
  
I smiled as I gave my utmost attention to her. "That would be correct, Madam. I am but a novice in this business." I made a subtle move in bringing my hand closer to hers, and she blushed visibly. I knew the theory of how to get to a woman, but I rarely felt anything afterwards. "Twenty-one is still too early to understand the world around me fully."  
  
"I…" She faltered, withdrawing considerably against the wall.  
  
I showed a fraction of my teeth as I did my well-rehearsed smile. "From my observations, I can tell you're an intelligent woman, from a respectable background and with the most beautiful eyes, from what I can see in this poor light."  
  
She flinched as I tucked her fringe behind her ears, but she didn't say anything. They were a kind shade of green, the sort I imagined the evening sea to be. Although that came from a man seeing the sea from oil paintings, not the real deal.  
  
I let my hand linger by her ear, bringing myself closer to her. I was certain I was going too fast, but my body seemed to apparently know what it was doing. I leaned forwards so I could utter just a few reassuring words. I slipped back to my place of the sofa, and she stared at me.  
  
"You want to help me?" She made to take the glass on the table, but I got there first. She deliberately made our hands touch as she took it from me. "No, I couldn't."  
  
I crossed one leg over the other confidently. "It's okay, I'm here to assist in anything you have that's troubling you. I may sound bold in saying so, but you have history."  
  
She drank her wine swiftly. "You wouldn't have a clue."  
  
"Perhaps not," I agreed. "But I could give it a shot. In most instances, things don't seem as bad once you tell someone."  
  
She considered my proposition, playing with the ringlets and spinning the strands round her index finger. She looked at me from time to time, and I didn't hurry her. I knew it took a lot to confide in a stranger. "I have a son."  
  
I was taken aback, but I didn't let it show. "Do you have anyone to help raise him?"  
  
She laughed at the remark. "He's thirteen. At least he would be if he was still at home."  
  
"I apologise for arising a difficult topic," I hastily replied, and I had a number of interpretations already coming into fruition from what she said.  
  
"He's not dead," she confirmed, as though she knew what I was thinking. "He's sick."  
  
Which was another phrase to say that he was to pass away soon.  
  
"I'm sure he's a strong lad who can pull through whatever fate has in store for him," I reassured. It wasn't the sort of response I hadn't been anticipating, but at least I could change my cards accordingly to the game.  
  
She nodded. "I want to think that too. He's had help for over a year, and I want to keep thinking he'll be all right."  
  
She didn't move away when I carefully placed an arm round her shoulders. She was considerably older than me, but I wasn't thinking of the marriage anymore. This woman was going through a rough time, and as a gentleman it went without saying that I had to do everything in my power to relieve her of her problems.  
  
"He will, I guarantee it," I whispered. "So why are you here, when you should be with him and supporting him?"  
  
"The doctors say that my contact with him should be limited," she said in an undertone, and I noticed immediately that she wasn't telling me the truth. I knew the tell-tale signs of body language from my various games of poker. Bluffing wasn't her strong point.  
  
"You don't want to see him," I corrected.  
  
Her eyes started to well up as she nodded. She brought a hand to her mouth to stop herself from whimpering. I showed that I didn't care about her appearance by taking out a handkerchief from my front pocket and offering it to her.  
  
She took it with a small smile. "Last time that I saw him, he…wasn't himself. I didn't recognise him, and he didn't even look at me. He just…screamed and blocked everything in the world. The time before that, he looked at me like he'd never seen me before. I just want the doctors to bring him back to me, but it's been going on for so long I've been losing hope."  
  
I nodded understandingly. She was here so that she could forget about her problems, in the same way her son blocked everything around him. She didn't care about the money – she only wanted to do something with her life other than wait in an empty residence.  
  
As what some other people had done, she made the casino a second home.  
  
I really felt concern for her, but I didn't let it show to its full level. That's the way I had been raised, not to reveal my game from the get-go. Several signs leaked through nevertheless.  
  
"Sir, would you mind if I could borrow you for five minutes?"  
  
I wanted to roll my eyes. Even though this evening was for me and Joker had left me to my own devices, no one 'borrowed' me for five minutes.  
  
I turned to mention that to the speaker, but I stopped myself before I did when I saw who it was. Dressed more formally than I had ever seen him (presumably for the occasion) complete with a bowler hat, Liam Salvato had otherwise looked exactly the same as I remembered. His voice had been gentle when he had addressed me, yet his eyes were narrow and fierce.  
  
"I won't be long, something's cropped up," I murmured to the woman, who didn't say anything to show that she had heard me.  
  
Liam took me into a bathroom without a word, shutting and locking the door behind him. He sighed as he took of his hat, releasing the pink hair within and letting it fall onto his shoulders.  
  
"Liam," I said seriously. With regards to the speech earlier, I doubted he would have taken the news too well. After all, up until now, he had assumed me to be just like him.  
  
"Well Jack, it's been a while." He smiled broadly as he leaned against the sink surface. "What's happening?"  
  
I blinked. I had let my guard down, and I was playing by his rules. "Set to run the business and get married," I replied as a way to make him fully understand. Perhaps he had got me on my own so that he could clarify things first-hand. I was more than willing to set the record straight.  
  
However, my calculations were once again disastrously wrong. "I mean you. Are you ready? From what I saw, you're never going to get laid if you make women cry."  
  
"You're not offended?"  
  
"Do you want me to be?" Liam countered, waving a hand lightly. "I'm past that. I've known for some time – Charles doesn't stop talking about you."  
  
I sighed as I made to stand by him. It was a relief to know that Charles was still all right after everything, and from what I could tell, he had taken over the family business the way it had been planned for us.  
  
Liam frowned as he continued. "But at the end of the day, it's all about you. Have you got doubts?"  
  
"Several," I admitted. "I had thought that I could see what sort of lifestyle everyone had, but now I went to their level, things look a whole lot worse. From above, I failed to see how much suffering there was at the bottom of the food chain. Or rather, I knew it was there but chose not to see it."  
  
Liam tapped a finger on the marble surface. "What are you saying?"  
  
"I can't help them all." I smiled half-heartedly as I looked across at him. He had a good poker face on – it was hard to tell what he was thinking. He was different to what I remembered him to be like. "I only have the option to save one of them, and I don't think I can."  
  
"So what will you do?"  
  
I had thought about it often over certain points of the evening. How many of the people here had debts bigger than their bank account. How many lives had been ruined over the five generations of the Silver Lynx. How ordinary people, in a moment of madness, had walked through the front doors and found it difficult to apply themselves into the real world.  
  
Exactly how many people could be saved if I chose not to continue the legacy, and let my one life reach out to those that can be pulled out their financial slump.  
  
Perhaps it had happened to me already, how I had been too egotistical to think that Madam Rose thought of humans as suckers when I was doing the exact same thing. The business flourished on how easily people could be manipulated.  
  
"I need to finish it." I pushed myself off the surface and crossed the room towards the door. "I'll keep bluffing, but I'll throw the cards down when the time is right."  
  
Liam smirked, and it had a nasty curl to it. The type I would assign to Joker. "Finishing it won't solve anything. Those people would still get themselves in debt and live a lifestyle that would be equally unproductive. Those people aren't the ones that need to be saved – you only need to look out for yourself."  
  
I shook my head. "You're wrong. As the one with power, I have to do what's necessary. I'll disappoint Father, but at least I know it'll be the right thing to do. And I won't regret it later."  
  
He tapped his chin thoughtfully, his smile not wavering in the slightest despite me approaching the door. "And what if I told you that Charles was happy you took over? Would you have the heart to disappoint him?"  
  
My hand hovered over the latch, my brain racing with what I should do. Do I run and stop Liam from losing sight of my path? Or do I hear him out, seeing as he was my only connection to my old family?  
  
"If you shut the place down, it's not like he's going to embrace you with open arms," Liam continued, choosing his words carefully so that each one stung. "You'll end up like me, an aimless wanderer who can't get any closer to what he wants."  
  
I lowered my hand considerably, and probably a gesture to show that I wanted to hear more of what he had to say. "And what do you think?"  
  
"Thing is, Jack, you matter. You have a whole future lined up, and most people would kill to get to have meaning to their life. No one has a clue what's ahead of them, and you have that security. To me, you're the luckiest person I've ever met."  
  
I averted my gaze as I recalled my mother in her glory days. Begging my father to have meaning to her life, how many risks she took to keep my identity a secret and how much I meant to her. And if Charles was happy about where I was, then there was no reason for me to have second thoughts. Was I being selfish, idealistic? I had failed to see what the people who mattered to me thought, only interpreting the world through a biased lens.  
  
There were still thoughts that lingered beyond the door. There had to be a way to help them collectively.  
  
Liam ran a tongue over his lips. "You stand above everyone else. To throw all that away would be suicide."  
  
"I've been sitting too close to the problem I haven't been able to see the whole picture. It's nice to have an outsider's perspective." I smiled as I undid the latch and opened the door a little. "Thank you. It may take some time, but I guarantee that I'll give you a definite answer when I've made up my mind."  
  
"Time isn't what you need – it's persuasion." Liam nodded for me to go on ahead without him. "Good luck out there."


	16. Ace of Spades

I struggled after that conversation in the bathroom. On one hand, there was status. And on the same hand, the most hated man in Traverse Town. It was only natural that it came with consequence, and it was hard to tell whether it was the right thing to do. I didn't want to disappoint, yet I didn't want to feed on the misfortunes of the residents I had put as nameless.  
  
The months went by after the twenty-first birthday party, and I was relieved that no one mimicked my mother's behaviour. In fact, no one approached me, and even Madam Rose didn't converse to me quite as animatedly as before. It was for the better – I wanted to arrange my thoughts before dedicating my valuable time to someone else.  
  
Joker attended to me every morning, as normal. He'd lay out the suits and serve me the tea. Yet this morning, I noticed immediately that something was wrong.  
  
A complete stranger hovered by the door almost an hour before scheduled time, no tray in sight. Her lips were pursed yet thin, with high cheekbones that bared a slight resemblance to Joker. Her eyes darted between her feet and me, mentally debating whether to set into the room or not.  
  
"Did something happen?" I questioned them immediately as I got out of bed. I didn't care that I was barefoot or that my bed was unmade.  
  
The woman was young, maybe mid-twenties, but her eyes didn't match his stature. They were distant, but they were experienced. She turned away from me – a move of agitation. Her hair was short and tom boyishly dishevelled, like she hadn't brushed it since getting up. Nevertheless, it did absolutely nothing to disguise the worry line across the woman's face. I would have considered her a younger version of my mother, seeking attention to get me into the bed, if not for the vague outline of a gun in the inside pocket of her crisp blazer.  
  
"Mister Ludor passed away last night."  
  
I stared at her, hardly able to believe what I had heard. Then, without bothering to get changed, I tore past her and let my feet carry me to Father's room. It was impossible. I couldn't hear anything, and none of the sights registered in my head. I had to see him for myself to believe.  
  
"Father!" I pulled down on both handles hard, throwing the doors open and scouring his bedroom.  
  
It was much like my own, but considerably colder. The flowing curtains could only tell me that the window was open. My eyes rested on the bed, and I didn't need to think twice about what to do next.  
  
I half walked, half floated to his side and knelt as close to him as I could. I felt for his hand under the covers, smoothing out the wrinkles with a thumb as I held it tightly.  
  
"Father," I repeated, softer now that I was with him.  
  
No matter how long I took note of his defined features, those high cheekbones, it was hard to accustom myself to think he was dead. His hand was losing the last of its heat, his face unmoving and not even breathing. There wasn't a trace that he took notice of my presence. That was evidence enough, surely.  
  
I straightened his beard with my free hand to stop myself wiping my watering eyes. "Who did this to you? You still had so much to do." I thought of those time we ate our meals together, and how little we had conversed about the things that mattered. We talked business and maintaining appearances, and as I looked down at my father I realised how little I knew about him as an individual.  
  
Why was time so short?  
  
I leant forwards to kiss the top of his forehead. We never showed affection to each other despite us being blood relatives, but after twenty-one years of waiting, it was only appropriate.  
  
I left his side only to close the window. There was something uncanny about it, and the way the curtains billowed out heightened the prospect of someone sitting on the windowsill. Father would never have wanted it open on a cold spring morning.  
  
Yet it was because I approached the window before any of the maids that I found substantial evidence.  
  
My eyes were drawn to the latch of the window, and I outstretched a hand to untangle it from the metal. I didn't want to break it, yet my hands shook as I knew already what it meant.  
  
He had left it for me. On purpose, one would assume. No one in their right mind would leave such an obvious clue, especially him.  
  
One hand closed the window as the other held the single hair to my face. It was definitely pink, and I didn't need to bring it to the light to be absolutely sure.  
  
I mentally thought out what we had last said to each other. It was definitely the twenty-first birthday several months ago, and I didn't recall seeing him around the casino either. I had assumed that he had found some other pastime.  
  
Liam had spoken to me about my future, and overall tried to convince me to take over the business. That was the general gist, from what I remembered.  
  
But how did killing my father accomplish anything?  
  
I knelt by his side again, smiling faintly. He had always liked my smile – he had said that it was the one thing that reminded me of my mother. If she wasn't here to send him off properly, then I had to do my best to take over.  
  
One hand clung onto the hair whilst the other fingered the quilts. I didn't want to be too far away from him, for the fear of someone else seeing him ate at me. I wanted to memorise every crease on his face, the last look he had before he was murdered. Was it painless for him? Did he know that it was Liam? Did he laugh, beg, or did he even have the time to do anything besides struggle in his last moments?  
  
He looked so still, and not a single drop of blood had been spilt. If one was to give the body a fleeting look, one would assume he had died in his sleep.  
  
My father was a great man with respect to his dedication to the business. He made it grow and expand the way none of our previous successors had ever managed to compare to. He treated everyone fairly, and had the good balance of stubbornness and lenience that was necessary to deal with all sorts of people. In a way, it was unthinkable why someone would eliminate someone as good-natured as he was.  
  
I had to find Liam. Revenge wasn't my language; I simply wanted to know why.  
  
The doors closed behind me, the guest trying to keep her entrance as quiet as possible. The room was so silent I could hear the footsteps on the carpet as she came to stand behind me.  
  
"Master Ludor, I have cancelled all meetings for the day. I have explained that a grieving period is necessary, and it is your call about how long is required." Now that the stranger had revealed the worst of it, her voice was stern and professional.  
  
I didn't say anything. Business affairs were the least of my concerns. My fist clenched tighter to hide the hair within, just in case she picked up on it. I shook my head as I turned to face her. Now looking at her properly, she appeared less awkward than she had been in my room earlier. She was just as shocked about the death as I was, but she chose not to show that weakness to my face.  
  
She straightened considerably as she continued. "We have yet to find the culprit. The coroner and the investigators will be here soon, so I would recommend you resume to business or get some fresh air. It's best to occupy the mind in these cases and to give him space."  
  
I only heard the word 'investigators', and that was enough to make my heart beat faster. It meant that it was already known that Father hadn't died naturally.  
  
"Investigators?" I repeated. I didn't want to reveal the cards from the get-go. It was acceptable whilst in grief to be blissfully ignorant, and I might as well use it to my advantage.  
  
The girl nodded grimly. "We have reason to believe he may have been assassinated. Being a prestigious business tycoon does inevitably awaken unwanted enemies."  
I glanced at my father again, who looked no different than the last time I saw him. If the coroner was to come, would he know that it was murder? Would he be able to find enough to give substantial proof that Liam had done it?  
  
I needed more time. I had to think.  
  
I straightened myself so quickly I felt a knee crack. I knew for a fact my father was a rough sleeper, where several pillows were necessary to give him a good sleep. So why were they all so fluffed up now, as if someone wanted to make the scenery too perfect? "A diagnosis won't be necessary," I said sternly as I recomposed my authority. Even though I had no knowledge of who this woman was, I was still above them – for her to see me in a vulnerable state was beyond embarrassing.  
  
"May I ask why, Master Ludor?"  
  
I traipsed out the room, leaving the door open for the woman to follow me out. He had been suffocated – a clean and easy way to ensure he wasn't heard and little chance of survival. And the pillows had been fluffed up to hide the evidence.  
  
Despite my report to Father all those months ago, Liam was never one suit short. He had hidden it so well I was convinced after those numerous encounters, he didn't possess the Spades at all. Perhaps it was gambler's fallacy kicking in, where I had assumed each event to have a connection. I had carried across the fact he had no Spades for so long that I was blinded by it.  
  
That conversation in the bathroom was more than enough to turn everything upside down if I had kept a level head and treated it an independent encounter.  
  
Rather than having no Spades, he was the Ace. The legendary card that was often associated with bad luck.  
  
Despite all that, as I entered my room again, I waited until the woman closed the door fully behind her before answering her question. "The investigators won't be needed as I was the one who killed him."  
  
Taking blame of someone else's crime didn't feel honourable. It should have been, but my stomach felt so empty that I couldn't feel anything at all. Perhaps I was credulous in thinking I would be able to feel something, but inside, I had never felt so hollow. I wanted to feel something other than loss, I wanted to protect Liam so I could ask the questions later when things died down.  
  
Or maybe there was still part of me that didn't want me to believe that my father was murdered. And in the same way, I couldn't rule out that Liam's actions were unintentional.  
  
Everything was so much clearer it was blinding. It would have been wiser to be kept in the dark, but now it was too late.  
  
She grimaced. "I'll cancel the appointment, if that is your request. I'll have just the coroner come."  
  
I nodded. "Please." If I was going to continue this charade, then there was no point finishing the game before it had started yet.  
  
Liam had wanted me to continue the business, and by eliminating the one man that got in my way for that, he made me directly confront what had to be done. And by instinctively taking the blame for him, I had given my definite answer.  
  
In the stranger's eyes, and mine now, I had killed my father because I was desperate to take over. I had learnt enough from him, and only wanted to have the rest for myself. That was the impression that Liam had lay out in front of me, and I took that opportunity without a moment's hesitation.  
  
The Ace of Spades' mission was complete, leaving devastation in its wake. The question of why didn't tantalise before my eyes anymore – it was when.


	17. The Handicap

When matters around my father were apparently swept under the bed, I finally saw the stranger for what she was.  
  
She was young, that much I had gathered from her height and smooth neck. She wasn't much higher than my chest, but her outward appearance of frailty was non-existent. Although her voice had shaken when she gave me the news, physically speaking she was both slightly muscular and had legs that suggested they had been trained hard. Her eyes were dark but sharp, and the hands by her sides were far from dainty, and certainly not befitting of an ordinary citizen.  
  
"Who are you?" I asked curiously. The stranger had talked to me through the post-death procedures, so it was certain she was involved with the Ludor family in some way. From what my memory served, she may have been one of the waitresses at the casino but I couldn't say I was entirely sure.  
  
The woman gave a small frown. "There's no easy way to say this either. But, if you're really the culprit, you should know already." She wetted her lips as she looked away again. "Given the circumstances, the House has assigned me to continue our civic duty as the fourteenth Joker. I may be a woman, however I sincerely believe that my efforts will pay off in the long run."  
  
She lowered his head curtly, but I barely registered it.  
  
"Fourteenth Joker?" I repeated faintly.  
  
"It's the number after thirteen," she said next, although the fact was hardly necessary. "It would be madness if they let a blind man do the job."  
  
Deep down, I wish I hadn't asked. First my father's death, and now I had lost Joker as well?  
  
I felt for one of the chairs that catered the table and fell more than sat into its white folds. Although the relationship I had with Joker was mutual, it still bothered me how he had gotten dragged into things. Presumably, Liam had managed to get to him. That was enough to direct Joker's welfare onto myself.  
  
Although selfish, in these desperate times, I wanted to be with someone I could confide to. Pull through the hardship with someone familiar by my side.  
  
"Can I see him?" I asked.  
  
The female Joker pursed those thin lips, perhaps picking at all my flaws. "Sure you can. But do you think he's going to want to see you?"  
  
Like the other Joker, she knew how to ask the right questions. Behind the scenes, they must have gone through mental training as well as physical. For this young woman to be appointed as the next Joker of the line despite her age, she must have been considered a prodigy. She was certainly meeting expectations so far. She didn't truly believe me right off the bat, and although playing along for now, it wouldn't be long until she brought those doubts out into the open.  
  
But I didn't have the time to deal with her.  
  
"I have to talk to him. Where is he?"  
  
She didn't answer the question, but instead gestured towards my body. "Do you mind if you…?"  
  
I looked down at myself. Over the cause of my waking hours, the first few buttons of my nightwear had come undone. When I saw for myself what I was, a grown man at the top of his game still not appropriately dressed at this hour, I realised just how awkward I was making my new subordinate.  
  
"Right," I murmured. "If you want, you can wait outside. I won't be long."  
  
She took up on the offer without a word and I turned my attention to the suit lay out on the settee that Joker had prepared last night. Pinstripe – I wasn't sure how appropriate it was for the occasion, but there was little point in complaining.  
  
Once I had showered and changed, I met up with the newly appointed Joker in the corridor. "Is this a bit better?"  
  
For the first time yet, she smiled shyly. "Much. The thirteenth Joker may be blind, but he'll hear you if you're not properly dressed."  
  
I didn't ask aloud about the physics behind it – I simply accepted that strolling around still in pyjamas spoke volumes. I let her lead the way, walking in step with her but not saying anything that threatened the silence.  
  
We went down the corridor and she rapped on the door that I knew led to the guest room. She gave me a quick look and although I still had to learn her body language, I knew that she was asking me to wait.  
  
It wasn't for long, but it was long enough. When she re-emerged from the room, she had also brought out a man I recognised as one of the security guards at the casino.  
  
"He'll see you now. When you're done, meet me in the drawing room. I know it's not ideal, but we need to prepare your statement to the press." She lowered her head slightly, and that vulnerability was enough to say that she knew what I was going through. I knew nothing about the Joker family, but were they more acquainted with death and coping with it?  
  
"I understand." I watched the pair go further down the corridor then down the stairs, delaying my encountering with the other Joker. Even though he shouldn't harbour any hatred for me, I still thought it difficult to push the door. My father was dead, unable to communicate with me from the world beyond, but Joker had gone through something that was infinitely worse. And it was my fault for not realising Liam's true motives.  
  
The only way I could open the door was if I closed my eyes and entered. It was better if I got the full story in one look.  
  
Joker was sat cross-legged at the head of the bed, first aid kit scattered in front of him. His glasses were on the bedside table now that they had no further use, the blazer draped across the chair. There was a bandage wound round the top half of his head and most of the right half of his face, making his head appear quite a bit bigger than it actually was.  
  
"I heard you come in. If you can, please take a seat." He gestured in front of him with a broad smile.  
  
I didn't take the invitation immediately. The sight was as I expected, but seeing it for myself struck a side of me I didn't realise. The first signs of tears started to well up my eyes as I saw the handiwork of the man I had considered my friend. I wanted to tell him everything was going to be all right, tell him I was glad he was here, but the words failed to leave me. Even if I did say them, would they be reassuring enough for Joker to know I wasn't breaking inside?  
  
I gingerly sat at the end of the bed, and Joker must have felt the springs adjust themselves, for he turned his head slightly to guess where I was. His ears were mostly covered, but it didn't stop him from listening out for my choked breaths. "How are you?"  
  
My fist clenched as I swallowed a bit too loud. "I'm…" I faltered. Joker was right there, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him. "I'll manage."  
  
Joker laughed softly. Not the harsh one that rung in the ears for several hours afterwards, but a good-natured one. "Of course you will. In times like this, even if the odds don't look ideal, you have to keep going."  
  
I shook my head fervently, forgetting for a brief moment he couldn't see it. "I'll manage," I repeated. "You don't need to worry about me. But you…I'm so sorry. Because of me…" I bit down on my lower lip, determined not to let my voice waver. I was eloquent, educated, but I could barely form a complete sentence more than five words long.  
  
"It's a lot better now," he reassured me. His fingers clenched somewhat as a way to channel his urge to pick up his glasses. "It means that I won't be able to protect you or see you through the journey you have just started on, but if you'll ever need me, I'll be around to put you back on your path. My replacement is very good at what she does though, so I doubt you'll miss me."  
  
He laughed properly this time, but I could hear the hesitance in it. We had been together for six years – I didn't realise it, but I knew more about Joker than I cared to notice. He was hurting just as much as I was, but opted to try and make me feel better about myself. And that made it all the more painful.  
  
"How did you…?"  
  
Joker's bandages shifted a fraction, which was enough to say he was arching what was left of his eyebrows. "Become blind? There's nothing quite like acid pouring on skin. From what Randy said earlier, the one who did this," he said as he tapped at his bandages, "it didn't leave a whole lot left. I think 'grotesque' was the word he used. Once these bandages come off, I'll spare you of the sight."  
  
I didn't want to know the details, but there was enough of me that wanted to find out. "Was it Liam?"  
  
My old subordinate nodded slowly. "I knew it. I didn't breathe a word though, and it's a good job I didn't. My replacement said it was an internal assassination, but we both know you would never be capable of that." Joker snickered to his legs. "I've seen the way you look at the Silver Lynx – not anymore, mind – and it's nothing like what Hadrian had. The casino meant more to him than anything; you could see the love he had for the place in his eyes. With you, even after six years, you still consider it to be your prison rather than your ticket to success and fame."  
  
I instinctively smirked. "What is the difference?"  
  
"Perhaps you'll find it once you stand at the top of the Empire," Joker advised. He frowned somewhat as he let his hands fall onto his lap. "I apologise that I will not be standing there with you."  
  
"Maybe you'll be able to go to the lifestyle you wanted before becoming Joker?" I said hopefully. He had been serving the family for nearly three generations – surely there was a decent ending for a man who dedicated so much service?  
  
He shrugged and turned his head away from me. "I do wonder. The role of Joker is very simple: protect the Head of the House. That night, my tasks were just as simple: protect Master Ludor or, in failing that, catch the perpetrator. In spite of those missions, I failed to accomplish either. Instead of honourably dying for my cause, I am forced to live on with a kind reminder." He exhaled through his nose. "Give my compliments to Liam when you find him – he really knows how to play the game."  
  
I disliked the defeatist attitude Joker was faking. His voice was light, but it burned me like the acid that had robbed him of his sight. He was putting on airs so that I could clamber over him without looking back. That was how matters were handled in the Silver Lynx. Push aside so many people and desensitise yourself from the damage caused. What does it matter so long as you remain on top?  
  
"All the deeds I have accumulated so far has to be weighed against my recent failure," Joker continued. "I'm not confident that it's going to be enough."  
  
My fist clenched again. "I'll put in a good word for you. If I had my own way, I'd have you work alongside me once you've rehabilitated."  
  
"But the House would never allow it," Joker completed with a ghost of a smile.  
  
"So the least I can do is give you a suitable reward for everything you have done for us." And, in an act that made Joker recoil, I rested a reassuring hand on his. It was cold to my touch, probably not too different to my father's, but the pulse was enough to separate the dead from the living. "I'm not too certain how much I can do, but you can take it easy. I'll make sure of that."  
  
Joker discreetly bit down on his lower lip. He brought his other hand on top of mine and held onto it loosely. "You're too kind-hearted. Perhaps that's your handicap."


	18. Every Chess Piece Has Their Role

When one is promoted, it takes a lot for that person not to brag about it or feel remotely excited. Being on a higher salary and earning more respect is a man's dream, and hiding the ecstasy would be unthinkable. For me, it was incredibly easy.  
  
The funeral proceeded only days later, and my workload gradually increased as those days went by. Even though the new Joker had said otherwise, I had to get back to the swing of things. There was no question about it.  
  
As she said, Joker never got anyone to inspect the body. Ever since I told her the lie, she didn't press me for details and rarely talked about anything beyond business. When I asked her about it, she simply said that feuds within the family were just as common as outside. We were both aware that she did not believe me, but she set that aside to ensure transactions went smoothly.  
  
Being the only one to know about the exact origins of the murder (we both reached the assumption that it was for the best), there were times when I would blank her for a full five minutes before she realised I wasn't paying attention. She was patient with me, taking me through each of the protocols like it was second nature to her. Her smile was kind, advice sound and she didn't take anything harsh to heart. Although she lacked the bite the other Joker had, her eloquence was, for the most part, impeccable – she still had trouble coming to me in the mornings.  
  
But I figured out it was because that was what she was paid good money for, nothing else. Our relationship didn't go beyond work and the welfare of the family business. Without a father to answer to, I had to bounce my notions off someone to ensure my decisions were for the better.  
  
It also went without saying that it proved difficult for me to find time on my own. If possible, Joker was constantly with me more now that my father died and I was King. I didn't have the room to breathe.  
  
In the end, I had to take her with me as far as the other side of town. I insisted that it was a business trip, and that it wasn't required of her to come with me to the door. One would assume she was curious of my out-of-office endeavours, but she was simply doing her job right to the last line of her contract.  
  
Walking down the familiar streets did me no favours. Everywhere had a story to tell of my childhood, or something that could have been. I would see one alley and know it was a shortcut to the school. I would also look at the shop corner and notice that something had changed about it.  
  
When I went to the item shop though, it looked just how I remembered it to be. Nothing about it had changed, but I knew that six years must have made some difference within. Now that I was here, I couldn't turn back. This was the only chance that I was going to have for a while, and it was unavoidable that the news of Father's death would leak out and ultimately have a knock-on effect on the family. Not because he meant something to my mother, but I was sure that they knew all too well what would happen afterwards.  
  
I exhaled, pushing on the door and letting myself into the shop. It was empty, with no one manning the counter or keeping an eye on the store as a whole. I made the assumption that they were out back sorting out the stock or the shop was closed, and the family was already in the house, although I knew that wasn't the case as Matthew harped on more than anything about locking the building before leaving.  
  
I settled with the former, seeing as the family house was a little way down the road. I circled the counter, recalling the number of times Charles and I had walked between the two places to help Matthew out. I would always choose the heavier, more awkward crates as Charles would sort out the rest. Was Charles more able now?  
  
I opened the door and poked my head, supporting myself by gripping onto the top of the frame.  
  
The store room had grown considerably darker and danker, I noticed immediately. The age of the walls were proof enough I had gone for too long.  
  
And, equally weathered and sat in the corner, was the hunched figure of a woman. Not like the glamorous ones that I saw in the casino, but an ordinary woman with scruffy hair and an air of vulnerability.  
  
I approached her, hesitant of speaking up. Was she mad? Was she crying about Father, or did something else happen that I hadn't heard or manage to pick up on in the paper?  
  
I got as close to her as I dared before I knelt down in front of her. Physical contact probably would be inappropriate at this stage. "Mum, I've come back."  
  
She jumped, her hands flying away from her face and her head lifting up quickly to look at me in the eyes. I tried to smile in a bid to dissolve the friction between us. The rage in her eyes was too much though, and I knew that I wasn't welcome. "Filth! Disgusting filth! I'm ashamed to think you were in me, leeching off my blood and clawing at my stomach! What have you done?" Her hands reached her cheeks and, true to her word, she started clawing her face mercilessly.  
  
I got onto my feet, scared but unable to pull myself away. I was startled, definitely, but I didn't have it in me to leave her. We were in it together. It was my fault she was in this shape.  
  
"Mum, look at me." I placed my hands on her shoulders firmly, even though it was hardly necessary. She couldn't tear her eyes away from me, refusing to even blink.  
  
"Eon never existed! You were just a parasite waiting to happen!" she continued to scream, and I gripped onto her shoulders tighter as an ineffective way to channel the pain. "I gave birth to a demon! How could I forgive myself?"  
  
I brought my hands round her back and forced her into an embrace, leaving her hands against my chest so she couldn't tear at her face. "It's all right. Eon's still here, he's well."  
  
I felt her shudder in my grasp. "He never existed," she repeated.  
  
"I'm right here."  
  
"He never existed."  
  
There was little point in me sticking around if she didn't even see me. As much as I wanted it to be a touching reunion about how much our lives had changed all these years, how much we remembered each other, it was all a distant imagination. Yes the problem was for us to share, but I knew that it was better if I left the scene.  
  
I couldn't look out for my mother the way I had before. It was for the better that she had cut ties with me – it made it easier for me to let her go and be on my way.  
  
She sobbed, slumped on the floor and clinging to the thin soil. If I hadn't grown so accustomed to hiding my true motives and emotions, I would have cried just as hard. Instead, I left her there without a backwards glance.  
  
Joker picked up on my disheartened mood immediately. "I take it didn't go according to what you had hoped."  
  
I laughed derisively. Although I hadn't told her anything, I had the impression she already knew about my origins and what I was trying to accomplish. "Things would have worked out better if Father was here."  
  
"Don't think that. It's only natural for the legacy to be passed onto you, no matter the circumstances."  
  
I could tell Joker was running out of reassuring things to say to me. I might as well come clean. "Mother refused to accept me. She didn't even know that I was there."  
  
She gave me a bemused look, raising an eyebrow and bringing her hands behind her back. "I see. I feel that it is not my place to pry."  
  
"I can rest easy knowing she was safe all this time," I chose to say. I didn't want to show my human weakness to her – it was better if I left it all to curiosity. I started to walk, my bodyguard slightly behind me but still in my peripheral vision. "Even if she isn't in the right frame of mind, I like to think she's strong. She'll pull through without my help."  
  
Joker nodded sagely. "And the ones you consider relatives?"  
  
I sighed, sliding a hand into my trouser pocket. "Nothing. It was never about them, correct?"  
  
I led the way back to the casino, my shoes striding across the pavement despite my lack of confidence. It took a lot to play the top dog. In a dog-eat-dog world such as this, I had made compromises to get to where I was. Father taught me that. And without intending to, I had ruined the lives of those I had loved and treasured with all my heart.  
  
We walked in silence for a long time, both equally lost in own thoughts in turmoil. I was wrong to have gone back in the first chance that I could. I almost wished I had never seen my mother like that. It stung, but it didn't hurt. I had to keep up appearances.  
  
"Mister Ludor," Joker suddenly said, and I was still having trouble of being addressed in that way. As the rightful heir, an accommodating promotional title was only natural. "I request that you dissociate yourself from the Green family from now on. Their lives are not of your concern anymore, and any more communication with them would be a hindrance, both for them and for you."  
  
I smiled. "I know."  
  
She wasn't convinced, and to be honest I wasn't either. The tension between us was high, but we had to maintain our roles. Joker was the King's subject – her only mission was to advise, and it wasn't in her power to change how the King chose to play.  
  
In chess, the objective of the game was to protect the King. All the pieces had their own role and had to use each unique talent to collectively win the game. In a way, Joker was only fulfilling her duty and stayed close to me, like how the Rook doesn't stray from the King after castling.  
  
In the same way, my mother's role was to raise me to be a dignified gentleman that wasn't influenced by money or figures. Charles' role was the trusted horseman who made the game interesting.  
  
It was when we passed the main plaza that I thought of Liam. The flowers were in baskets outside, pink and green and boasting life. He wasn't there at the funeral, nor did he appear in the casino when I had the chance to look. Why was it so hard for me to find him? Had he told me about my family to see what had become of them? Would there be one last chance I could see him before he disappeared into the shadows? I knew so little about his outside life – perhaps like me, he depended on the lies to have no loose ends.  
  
"How many piercings did Father have?"  
  
Joker snickered to herself. To her, it was quite possibly the most random question given the circumstances. "Four. He got them done every ten years. Why?" she asked curiously.  
  
I shrugged. Liam had told me to get a piercing done, and perhaps getting one would help me ease into the lifestyle he had set out for me. "I was thinking about getting one."  
  
Joker shook her head, letting a hand delve into her pocket. As she withdrew a card, that feat was enough to ease the tension. It was the same thing the other Joker had done the first time we met. "The cards think you should have six. You can't fold now you've raised the stakes."


	19. Why Lady Luck's a Woman

He came a few mornings later. He refused to go into the casino itself, but hearing the news from security made me drop my papers without a second thought.  
  
Joker didn't follow me. I was mildly surprised she didn't try to stop me, but I believed she thought it would be awkward, and she couldn't be more right.  
  
When I threw open the doors of the casino to scour the dingy alley, my eyes finally rested on a lean man several feet away from the entrance. It was bad to see in this poor lighting, but when he looked up, I knew that I was looking at what Charles had grown up into.  
  
"You've grown taller," I remarked as I made my way towards him.  
  
He nodded firmly. "And you've got yourself a beard."  
  
I laughed, half-expecting him to join in. It was rare for him to make jokes – that was my job. And the bitter note to it only meant he was completely different to the boy of our childhood, the one who cried when he was bullied or play the violin only when necessary to not bother everyone else.  
  
"It takes a lot of work to keep it this way," I commented as a hand instinctively went for it. "It's stylish, and doesn't get in the way either."  
  
Charles smiled weakly, and now that I was closer, I could see that his face had become more chiselled and his eyes were no longer wide and lost. His hair was wild and stuck out to the sides, the same way Matthew looked. Mine was cropped, blonde as ever and a spitting image of Hadrian Ludor. My crisp suit against his scruffy attire. The way I held myself upright, the way he slouched slightly to the right. Did we really grow up alongside each other?  
  
"So, what brings you here?" I asked as I straightened my suit somewhat. Being in an alley dressed like this didn't settle right for me.  
  
Charles frowned. "Mum. She won't stop talking about you."  
  
"I paid her a visit a few days back," I admitted. "Is she sick?"  
  
I didn't get a reply straight away. Despite being away from each other for so long and Charles' features to have changed so dramatically, I could still pick up on his expressions like he was twelve all over again. He was anxious, maybe embarrassed.  
  
He avoided eye contact with me as he started the explanation. "Yes. Ever since you left, she had small bouts of depression. Dad and I failed to pick up on it at first, but it became more apparent as we all became more and more concerned about you. The notes tore her apart, and she wouldn't tell me the truth about you. She would say she was perfectly fine, but after a while we could tell she wasn't."  
  
I smiled. "Even though we're not direct blood relatives, you do know that we're still brothers, right?"  
  
The old Charles would have sniffed and nodded. However, he simply blinked and let the reassurance bounce right off him. "In the end, Dad told me everything. And the pair of us did what we could to help Mum."  
  
"Is she ashamed to have me as a son?" I asked. Her screams echoed in my head, and I couldn't forget the loathsome look she had reserved for me.  
  
"She wanted to give what was best for you. And I think that for her, the time for you to leave was too soon. It was for everyone – me, Dad, your friend Tom, even your teachers." Charles sighed. "She's driven by guilt, Eon. She knew that you were important to the family, and she thinks that it's her fault that you had to leave. Think about it: you took off one day and never looked back. What did you think was going to happen?"  
  
I resisted the urge to agree. True, perhaps Mum was the reason I was here. She was desperate to have meaning to her life, only to discover that once she did settle down, I had to be removed from the picture. She knew full well that I had to return to my father at some point, and that she would have to carry on life as normal without me. That was the deal she had signed.  
  
And fifteen years was too short, for both of us.  
  
"It was going to happen sooner or later," I justified myself. "It was only a matter of time."  
  
Charles' eyes bore into me, and it was increasingly easier to believe that he was my brother. We had grown up separately for a while, but we both knew how to battle verbally. "Mum hasn't gotten better since you left, not really. Normally she just sits in the corner and cries. But since you visited her, she's become more active."  
  
"And that's a good thing?" I didn't find the pleasure in constant insults directed at me.  
  
"To me, yes. She wouldn't say a word to me when she heard about your real dad. It means a lot to me to hear her talk again." He rubbed the back of his neck, a small thing that he did when he was relieved. "Dad passed away too, so she was a state. She always preferred you as a son, you know that Eon?"  
  
I furrowed my eyebrows together. She preferred Charles, no question about it. He was trying to say pointless things to get me thinking. "Matthew as well? When? How?"  
  
Charles shrugged. "It was a heart attack, must've been at least six months ago now. It was quick, so I don't think it was painful. How about yours? The newspaper didn't really elaborate on how it happened."  
  
"He was assassinated," I said. I didn't feel it appropriate to go into the fine details – the secret regarding Liam was for my eyes only. But neither did I want to relay to him that I was the 'criminal'. "It's been made clear to me it happens a lot in the business."  
  
He let out a sound of perplexity before breaking into a smile. The first I had seen for such a long time. A smile found its way on my own lips in return just from seeing it. "I have a feeling Mum will get better if you're around, and I don't want you to die either. Come back home with me, and we can start over."  
  
The invitation was tempting, but if only it was some years ago. That was when I was in more turmoil than I could handle, unsure of what the right path was. Now, I knew where I was meant to be. "I have already embraced the casino as my own. Turning my back on it would disgrace me as a man."  
  
"And turning your back on your family doesn't disgrace you as a brother?" Charles' disappointment was evident, and he made no effort to hide it. His eyebrows furrowed considerably. "I didn't realise you would have changed so much."  
  
I laughed, jerking my head behind me. I was surprised how much my life had turned over too. To fight my biggest weakness, I really had to blag my way through. "It's often said that with power comes corruption. But that's not necessarily true – I had made my decision a while back what to do with my life. I may not be able to handle it properly, but this is what I have chosen for myself."  
  
I had left Mum knowing that she was better without me. Charles wasn't going to sway what I had already set my mind on.  
  
"Do you know why Lady Luck's a woman?" I said to prevent him from trying to persuade me any further. I was afraid that given the chance, I really would walk home with him.  
  
"Is there a point?" he replied coldly.  
  
"You see, people often interpret her to be the manipulator behind the scenes. Encouraging men to have more luck than they actually have. However, history has twisted her ways and spun the story that men's only weakness is a woman. In actuality, it is the man's duty to serve her and treat her well. She doesn't owe them any favours, but she is a strong character who deserves to be treated with respect that all women should rightfully deserve."  
  
Charles covered his mouth discretely with a hand. Did he just yawn? "And?"  
  
"Mum wouldn't stop saying that I don't exist." I smiled grimly as I turned on my heel. "I respect her wish, and as a gentleman I hold her views higher than my own. If you would excuse me, I have a pressing schedule."  
  
I knew he was staring after me as I made my way back indoors. His appearance had complicated things, and I wouldn't be able to have a fresh start if he became persistent from now on.  
  
"Oh, and would you be willing to enlighten me of the whereabouts of Liam?"  
  
He blinked at the sudden change of topic. "He left town earlier last week."  
  
I kept my smile to myself. Without a doubt, Liam had waited until he could save up enough money from his trips to the casino and then let the chips fall on the table. That would explain the delay after the conversation in the bathroom. It also meant that he didn't want to be found, venturing the worlds he claimed existed, and there was little point in me pursuing him for answers.  
  
His involvement in the assassination was hushed up, and it was up to me to not let the cards show.  
  
"Thank you for the help, and I hope I have cleared things up regarding your proposal," I called back as I pulled down on one of the door handles. I didn't get a response, but I knew what was going through Charles' head. Since the same things were running in mine too, albeit right at the back of the brain.  
  
This was the last time we would see each other, and another reunion would be painful for both of us.  
  
He presumably continued to run the shop on his own, and I only got out of my office to inspect the facilities and staff happiness level. I got more involved with numbers and figures, obsessing over how they increased over time and rarely thought of what was happening in District One.  
  
My family would be disappointed, but I no longer had to please them and be the model brother. I wasn't bound by parents or relatives – Joker encouraged my work and offered suggestions, stating her compliments at just the right moments. It was almost a relief to do what I did best, let my brain run wild with the growing business and expand the way my father had.  
  
I initially sent out extra money to help aid my relatives. It wasn't impossible to notice from the lack of customers that business wasn't booming the way mine was. I imagined my mother would call it dirty money, but I was thankfully never on the receiving end.  
  
One month went by, then another. I never heard from my family again, but there were still instances where Joker expressed her concern on more than one occasion. It was true that some things never died – I still had a mild knack to be laidback and take my time, and Joker soon got the hang of my habits. I saw women as those who deserved respect, nothing more.  
  
Perhaps that was why, over time, Lady Luck cast me into the wind. One man couldn't make two women happy.


	20. Black and Red

When matters eventually died down with my father, I put a number of skeletons in the closet along with it. I greeted my contacts the same way he had done – with the air of superiority and giving them the attention they demanded, but nevertheless not all there. My destiny was to continue the family business and keep it running, that was all there was to it. As the sixth Ludor to manage the casino, it was entirely in my hands how the legacy would blossom.  
  
I brought more work onto myself on the instances I wasn't swamped with it. By dedicating all my waking hours to expand and maintain the business, I could forget the worst of it. I watched the income flood in, the same money spent wisely, the value of the building rise and the cycle starting anew.  
  
Although I had fought against my father's ways when I first came here and had big plans to change, the only thing that came into fruition was the change of uniform. I had vowed not to become like him, yet it had been a mere two years before I finally understood what was running through his mind all this time. He wanted to make his place in the world, set himself out to be better than his predecessors. He simply had more natural talent for it.  
  
"Mister Ludor, are you all right?"  
  
I must have looked exhausted. Raking a hand through my hair, I offered a reassuring but weak smile to Joker. "It was a long meeting this time, wasn't it?"  
  
An annual meeting was draining. I fondly remembered the days when Madam Rose used to hang off me and simply say she anticipated great things from me. Her weight and more was now overbearing, and not in the physical sense. She pestered me for results and made her view very clear around the table. She talked of shares and future business, oftentimes speaking over those that had something to contribute. In this particular session, she had been particularly gruelling.  
  
I took out the pocket watch from the folds of my blazer, also like my father. Exactly like him, for it was the same pocket watch in question. He had never written a Will whilst he was alive, but there was the loophole that by inheriting the casino and the house, I would take possessions of the assets within. Not only the physical artefacts – the House of Joker and the unwanted attention, too. Although I had received a lot from him, the watch was the one item I truly held onto. "Next one's with Mister Llewellyn in thirty minutes, correct?"  
  
Joker nodded slowly. "Sir, you don't have to go through this. I understand that succeeding your father is harsh, but it doesn't mean you have to do this."  
  
"I have to keep going if I expect to leave a legacy." I waved a hand nonchalantly. "My father was the same. It never starts out quite the same, but it's the first few years that decides what's to come. In much the same way as a loser can be determined through the first five minutes of the game. It's hard work maintaining the Silver Lynx, but it's just as vital to improve upon it."  
  
I got onto my feet and turned my head to get some feeling back into it. It was rather set on looking to the left, for that was where Madam Rose, the main talker of the annual meeting, was seated. To make the most use of my time, going to my office to work was inefficient. The office was a good five minute stretch away, and by the time I properly settled down, it would be time for the next meeting. So naturally, I brought the additional bits along with me to the meeting in the form of paper and my aide's brain.  
  
"I was thinking about moving a few of the rooms around. Your input would be most appreciated."  
  
One map in particular was the topic of conversation. Joker did her job in stating her opinion, and I took each word she said with grace. As she leaned to jab at the map, I nodded at spaced intervals and made counter-suggestions. In contrast to Madam Rose, Joker and I learnt how to complement each other – we didn't interrupt each other, giving each other both the room to talk and listen equally despite my higher status.  
  
Once the time was up, Joker gathered all the paperwork and carried it across for me in good time for the next meeting, which was to take place a mere three doors down the corridor.  
  
Mister Llewellyn was already waiting for us at the head of the table – a bold move, for that seat was always mine. His balding head didn't boast age, but rather a fashion trait he had grown accustomed to. Although his head lacked hair, his eyebrows were considerably bushy and his dark eyes were barely visible under them. Two bodyguards were positioned on either side of him.  
  
Mister Llewellyn motioned for me to sit on the other side of the long table, of which I had no choice but to comply. Joker set the papers in front of me before standing a considerable distance behind me. Although I couldn't see her, I knew she was there to both monitor the meeting and to take in every word uttered.  
  
"Thank you so much for coming on such short notice, Mister Llewellyn," I started, leaning forwards to steeple my fingers together. "As you have stated through unconventional means, I understand that you have something important to request of me?"  
  
By unconventional, I meant to say rude. Most third parties who needed to get hold of me went through Joker, often sending a messenger and involving several members of staff in the process, and arranged an appointment through her. Mister Llewellyn had personally come to my house after casino closing hours (which were incredibly late) and got hold of me after the household maid didn't know what to do.  
  
The gentleman nodded seriously as he flicked through his abnormally thick folder. "Yes, Mister Ludor, that I do." He took out a sheet of paper, gave it a quick glance over and promptly shook his head. "As stated on the business card I gave you, I work in a profession that most…tend to avoid."  
  
"A debt collector," I said a bit too nonchalantly, even for my standards. I let my eyelids fall shut – he could interpret it as a sign of boredom or thought. I myself wasn't entirely sure which of the two it was. "And for what reason does a man of your profession need to consult me about?"  
  
Mister Llewellyn shook his head again, but not at his paperwork. "It's a fairly serious cause for concern. When your father died two years ago, Joker here made all the arrangements to ah, tie up the loose ends. The matter was swept under the floorboards, but upon a recalculation, we realised that the interest was significantly higher than what had been noted. Ah."  
  
He took out some documents from the folder, stapled together in a bound of at least twenty sheets. "Your father had personal debts, temporary arrangements that enabled him to buy, say, land and contributed to retail price over the course of months or years. It's all there in the invoices, but to cut to the chase, it is your duty to pay what's owing to us."  
  
Mister Llewellyn contemplated sliding the documentation across the table, but reconsidered when he saw the vase of flowers right at the middle. Instead, he handed it to one of the bodyguards and they in turn delivered it directly into my waiting hands.  
  
I set the invoices on top of my standard work and skimmed through the figures. Of course my father would leave behind complications; that was just what came with the package. By succeeding another, the dark paths previously closed off become available. And it was not always the side that one would like to see.  
  
But as I read figure after figure, I came to realise it was a farce. Since when had Mister Llewellyn, a simple debt collector, come by two henchmen? He was simply an enemy after the spoils, either a henchmen himself to suss out how gullible I was or an underground leader who wanted to get hold of my profits.  
  
"Should I choose to hold onto these invoices to double check these figures, would I reach the same conclusion as you have put here?" I flicked to the back page (although I had only read the first three in detail) and sure enough, I saw the grand total. Or, how I interpreted it, ransom.  
  
Mister Llewellyn grunted. "We've had several teams look over your particular case, and we can confirm that what you're holding, right there, is what you should pay us. If you don't, we will be forced to take desperate methods and may very well end up taking a little more as compensation." He waved his arms around him, and I knew that he wasn't doing it to lighten the mood. To get to the bottom of it, pay the money or take the casino off my hands.  
  
I smiled knowingly – a look which I'm sure irritated people more than anything. "And using that logic, I'm assuming you fine gentleman would benefit from whichever decision I come to." I leaned back into my seat leisurely. If they were standard rivals trying to taint my father's memory, the game was already in the bag. "Therefore, I trust that you already know that I will refuse to hand over the money. I have worked alongside my father, knew his every purchase to the last detail. I know that all these values have been made up." I closed the invoices and tossed the bundle down the smooth table. "And you have some very warped ideas of APR."  
  
Mister Llewellyn's eyebrows knitted so close together they almost formed a single bushy line. His bluff was discovered, and he was finding few reasons to deny it. His fists clenched and unclenched, one of them notably reaching towards his blazer.  
  
But of the events that were to ensue, it was not my turf. The two bodyguards took out handguns at considerable speed, but Joker was already between me and them. If either of them had the chance to shoot, they would have hit her first. The vase of flowers slid across the surface in the same way the paperwork had, eventually finding its target and fell onto the carpet with a light thud. There was a single gunshot and, after a struggle I watched unfold, there was the final sound of a neck snapping.  
  
Joker trained her own gun at Mister Llewellyn's temple, making sure he didn't withdraw his weapon. Even from this distance, I could see the first beads of sweat running down his face.  
  
I arched an eyebrow. Through my death, Mister Llewellyn was hoping to reap the rewards. Like my fathers before me, the meeting rooms were designed to be away from the main part of the casino so as to not startle the guests, but not soundproof so the other members of the House of Joker wouldn't overlook it.  
  
I sighed as I got to my feet. "I understand fully well that you, or the one you serve, are unhappy of my current position. Until the day the Silver Lynx receives its next successor, I will protect it and improve business, as I have been trained to do. You have tried to blackmail me and have been unsuccessful – I will let you go for now, but I sincerely hope that I do not see your face around here again."  
  
Joker was hesitant, but she brought the gun to her side without question. Mister Llewellyn slowly got off his seat and kept his eyes on me as he walked around the table. "Be warned, King. You've barely started." He didn't bother to reclaim his folder or his fallen comrades – he simply gave a curt nod and was out the door.  
  
Joker rolled her eyes as she put her gun back into the holster. "Hadrian would have had him killed. A man kept alive like that will only bring more problems later."  
  
I laughed softly as I tucked in my chair. "Perhaps, but times are changing. Violence is becoming more obsolete by the day – it's all about conferences and shaking hands," I reasoned smoothly. "If I can help to implement that in our current enemies, who innovatively lie in wait for us in the shadows, the Silver Lynx has a real chance to be our way forward." I flashed a grin in her direction. "My rules may be slightly different to what you were expecting. Kindness is my handicap, that's what the…other Joker said."  
  
For the first time today, she gave a light laugh. "He's not entirely wrong. In more ways than one, I just don't believe you have what it takes to be what you are."  
  
"Maybe it's just what this world needs."  
  
In a place that encouraged deceit and trickery, it was hardly necessary for the same game to be played with management and those connected to it. For once in the history of the casino, there ought to be some honest diplomacy that didn't favour one party over another. Solving challenges with open gunfire and spilt blood resulted in nothing more than transient hatred. Distinguishing the world into black and red, Spades and Hearts, suits and blood.  
  
It was time that matters were brought forward around the table, not by barbaric means. Like Liam said, many would be jealous of my purpose of life – I had a chance to change the workings from the inside. By getting along with past enemies, perhaps there was a way I could liberate the House of Joker with it, like the thirteenth Joker had once dreamed of.  
  
I hadn't realised that I was playing the wrong rules. And as I opened up the Sunday paper and settled with my tea four years later, I should have known that I had already lost.


	21. Dead Man's Hand

Despite the office door being shut, I could hear everything about what happened down the corridor and in the main part of the building. My eyes concentrated on the work at hand, reading through the figures and notes with apt skill of a multi-millionaire. It was all common language to me, and being top dog for six further years made all the difference.  
  
A crash resounded beyond the door, and I didn't lift my head to wonder what it was. Their leader will find me soon, and the noises were coming gradually closer.  
  
"Mister Ludor, I don't think it would be wise to stay here."  
  
I signed the paper and let it join the growing pile on the other side of the table. "Rest assured, I have no intention of leaving. If the Silver Lynx falls today, let fate take its course. It would be dishonourable for me not to fall with it." I looked up at Joker, whose face looked so ashen that I knew that she was more concerned about me than I was. "I can't think of anything more humiliating. A man without pride in his work isn't a man at all."  
  
"Whilst I appreciate your view, it still isn't too late to save yourself," Joker replied sternly. "However, if there is nothing that will persuade you otherwise, then it is only my duty to fall with you."  
  
I let a small smile creep onto my face. I was feeling far from happy though – it was almost certain the end of me was to come. Her loyalty was admirable. "Thank you." I resumed back to the work, once again ignoring what happened in the rest of the casino. If I could grasp onto the last bit of my inheritance, then that was enough.  
  
She knew my intentions more than I dared hoped. "You do realise speaking to the leader of the revolt is going to be futile? They've established that they're set on physical means of persuasion. With your permission, I can settle this. Call back the others and we can settle this."  
  
My eyes lingered at the gun in her jacket, or at least the bulge of it. I couldn't see it, but it was common knowledge that ever since she became my bodyguard, extra protection was required to protect the King. She was a faithful subject to the end, of which I was grateful for. I had called off the rest of the House of Joker to lower the defences. The citizens were only claiming what was theirs – they didn't need to die for it and neither did the House.  
  
"I think not. At the end of the day, we are men. I have reason to believe that this matter can be settled without the need of violence. All I need is the right leverage and words. Please don't open fire unless one of us is at risk." I sighed and placed my pen on the table horizontally. Without a doubt, it was hard to channel all thoughts of the riot out of my head.  
  
Joker nodded, a look of contempt still showing on the creases on her maturing face. She was reluctant, but she muttered, "understood, Mister Ludor."  
  
I leaned back into my chair whilst waiting, and she didn't feel the need to continue the small talk. We waited for the one person who had brought this team of rebels together, and the clamour outside did nothing to ease the nerves. I devised a variety of things to say and mention, but I merely kept my eyes shut and let the blackness envelope me and offer me sanctuary where the outside world wasn't kind. I was tempted to withdraw my father's pocket watch from the folds of my jacket, but I forced myself not to in case it jinxed us.  
  
"Say Joker," I said slowly as I opened my eyes. "In what could be our final moment, would you care to indulge me?" I gave a small smile as I looked up at Joker. She really was exceptional, and although I saw her every day, she was looking at me differently. She was genuinely concerned about my welfare, and I wanted nothing more than to ease that. The look of worry did not suit someone so steadfast.  
  
She blinked, but I didn't need her to reply.  
  
I raised a hand to her, flashing a small grin to distract us both from the chaos beyond the office. "Before I met you, I hadn't realised I was only half a man. And now we have been in each other's company for so long, I don't think I could ever go back to who I was. I'm aware of how selfish I am in saying this, however I only say this because I want to know if you feel the same." It was surprisingly easy to come out with the words. They had constantly been at the back of my head, all those times Joker would lean over me with her innovative ideas and the way she shied away as we went about the morning routine. "I'm Albion Ludor. May I have the pleasure of your name?"  
  
Joker shook her head slightly. "I don't understand what you're trying to accomplish, Mister Ludor." Her voice betrayed her, and I knew she was trying her best not to be flustered.  
  
"Just play along," I confirmed, waving my outstretched hand to get her to take it.  
  
She took my hand gingerly, and I guided her slight hand into mine so they slotted together seamlessly. I didn't feel the hand of a trained assassin, but just a woman who was still learning the way of the romantic affair. I had been familiar with all too many ladies, but no one had made me feel nearly as relaxed as I did right now. I kept my eyes locked on hers, reassuring her without words that she didn't have to be afraid.  
  
"You can call me Feena."  
  
I let out a small sigh. The mutual agreement between master and servant had been severed, and I didn't regret it one bit. "Feena. How exceptional."  
  
I felt her hand relax in mine as she gave the tiniest smile. Perhaps she too felt the relief of us meeting as equals.  
  
It was inevitable that in this one moment of bliss, we both heard the door handle lower with a creak. Feena was sharper than me, and I felt her fingernails scratch me as her hand left for her gun.  
  
It all happened quickly before my eyes that I didn't have time to react. The first man entered with confidence regardless of the terrible jacket-trousers coordination (grey and brown never went together), but it was the scruffy man behind him that had the upper hand of already holding a gun in one hand. We both weren't to know.  
  
There were two shots, almost simultaneous, then she slumped dead on the floor. Joker didn't cry out – she was simply gone with a bullet between her eyes. I felt the pang of loss, about how she had met her end sooner than I had anticipated. If it hadn't been for my order or my selfish desires, she would have seen it coming a long way off. Maybe she had already known. I didn't realise how hard it hit me how much she had meant to me and I realised that I was finally all alone.  
  
In our last moment together, I was completely at ease and felt she was too. Yet, despite all that, I was quick to distort that memory. Did her feelings truly replicate mine, or was she doing it merely because I had ordered it?  
  
The events transpired quickly, but I had to deal with the following matters in my own way. And I knew I would meet a similar fate soon afterwards.  
  
I smiled anyway – even in the face of death, we Ludors never backed down. "Good afternoon. I knew that you would find me personally. Can I help you with something?"  
  
The man narrowed his eyes. "Judging by your attitude, I suppose I can assume you're the one who calls himself King."  
  
"Correct," I confirmed. "Is there a reason for all the commotion?"  
  
He growled, taking a few steps towards the desk and throwing the gun onto it. "I have never been one for killing, but I think now's the time that the public fought back. Whilst you sit in a nice cushy life, there are people suffering every day with nothing to do except gamble. Anyone who lives off other people's misfortune is sick."  
  
"I'm glad we're on the same page," I joked. I had that phase, there was no denying that. "Although, I would also imagine that you would agree with me that the company rarely advertises beyond the building alone. And being in a side alley such as this, would you agree that no one comes across it by chance?"  
  
I could see him gradually go redder. "Don't twist things! You knew full well what was happening below, and if you're going to turn a blind eye on it, then we would have to take desperate measures."  
  
I put my fingers together as I leaned forwards in my chair. "You have my attention. Desperate measures, you say?"  
  
"Some of your most loyal clients are planting bombs around the premises. I'm sure that there are more ransacking the back of the casino where all the money is, but I take it you already knew that." He smiled toothily, and I could tell his diet hadn't been too kind to him.  
  
I gave a firm nod. "What are your terms? I'd rather deal with the matter as gentlemen."  
  
He stared at me for a few seconds, then broke into peals of laughter. It echoed around the room, even drowning the sounds that ensued in the corridor, especially with the door open. And that was no easy feat. "You don't get it, do you? We're getting what we want as we speak – you'd be bankrupt, and you're just giving money back to those who deserve it. Take it as an act of charity."  
  
I sighed as I crossed one leg over the other. What he meant was that I should never have taken over the casino. I never doubted my decision, despite being in the face of death. I had made a difference, and had become a story to tell if the casino was to meet its end, which in any event was nigh.  
  
If Father was in charge now, would this have happened? Or was it something that was dormant for so long and had accumulated over time, to the point that now was the explosion?  
  
"I will," I replied humbly. There was little point resisting, seeing as I knew the rebellion had already gone out of hand and what little security was struggling as it was. What did I have to offer that they didn't have already? "Would you be considerate in aiming that gun at me?"  
  
He looked between the weapon and me in turn. "Why?" he asked weakly. "We only wanted to claim what was ours. If there's no force needed to get you to listen to us, then there's no reason for me to…"  
  
I made a pointed look at the gun still on the table. "Pick it up," I challenged as I offered a smirk.  
  
His gun hand shook as he lifted it up. He wasn't fully prepared for open murder, which most people generally aren't made to do. The only exceptions I had seen were Joker and Liam, both men with no fear.  
  
Fear ate at the heart of man. And a man with fear was the host to a great parasite that was best kept hidden from view. Having no fear meant to have power over the environment around you.  
  
Which meant that I had a chance against this man.  
  
"What's your name?" I asked. He could shoot me at any time, but he wouldn't pull the trigger.  
  
"I was a regular customer. If you looked at your guest list once in a while rather than sipping wine in the VIP rooms with the insanely rich, you would know who I was."  
  
I laughed dryly. "Apologies." Evidently, he wasn't open to friendly conversation. "How about some cards?"  
  
I didn't wait for his response. I brought my hand to the desk drawer and withdrew several metal plates from it. They were special cards that had a certain flare about them that made them different from ordinary playing cards. They had sharp edges, particularly in the corners, and hurt tremendously, according to my observations. I had reserved them for the more challenging players, but today I could make a small exception.  
  
There were four, and I handled them well so that I wouldn't cut myself. "Aces and Eights; you are lucky. Did you know that someone was shot and killed holding this hand? That's why it's known as the dead man's hand. He was killed before picking up the last card and it remains a mystery to this day as to what the last card was." I smiled wider as I turned the cards to face him.  
  
He didn't look as impressed as I was.  
  
I exhaled. If he wasn't going to end it all in one fell swoop, then I had to be the deciding factor. "I didn't want to do this, but tell me your name. I want us to be on friendly terms."  
  
"Don't give me that! Why should I if you only go by the name King? Everyone knows that's just a fake name!" he shouted, and I arched an eyebrow.  
  
I tossed one of the cards at him, and landed neatly into one of the thigh of the grey trousers. He screamed, writhed in pain as he clutched the card that prodded out there. The gun fell onto the floor with a clatter. I watched him as he did so, as unfeeling as the corpses that now dotted around the room.  
  
"Tell me your name," I repeated coldly, holding the Ace of Spades between two fingers in preparation. I couldn't help but taste the irony on my lips.  
  
He breathed heavily as he tried to ease the card out. "Dude, are you crazy?"  
  
"Maybe I am," I agreed. "Yet I'm also a man who defines crazy as a need for stimulation." I tossed the spare two cards onto the table and got onto my feet. "How can you trust your followers not to do something crazy?"  
  
The man jerked his head behind him. "He didn't shoot me in the back when there were plenty of opportunities. That's proof enough for me."  
  
"Oh," I responded flatly. Blind trust didn't get a leader anywhere, and without a doubt the business relationship was mutual at best, and the members would forget about the whole endeavour once the mission of claiming their debt and more was complete. "Might I suggest, Mister Smith, that as the leader, mutiny is fairly common in the more assertive of comrades?" I twirled the Ace of Spades with my fingers as I watched the man sweat a little more. "Unless I am mistaken, you contributed the idea but there are others with more drive. In other words…you're just the figurehead of the real rebels."  
  
His mouth opened and closed, the gasps of air so shallow I knew my intimidation act was working. "Show them you're in charge, that's my suggestion." I crossed the room towards the door, passing the gobsmacked rebel and casting a sorry look towards Feena. In the same way Mister Llewellyn did, I had to leave the dead behind. "You have the trigger, don't you? Detonate the bombs."  
  
I didn't want to be forgiven for my actions. There was little point in starting a business that had flourished for five generations from scratch, and it was better off gone for good. And if I could help someone along the way, then that was even better.  
  
Walking down the corridor lived up to the racket I had heard in the office. Men of all statures ran around either vandalising the place or screaming at the top of their heads. Everywhere I looked, I couldn't tell rebel from innocent customer caught in the crossfire.  
  
I slipped the metal-edged card into my trouser pocket to prevent anyone getting hurt from it, and made my way through the crowd as if it was an ordinary day. In my early days, I despised looking down from the balcony on the second floor. Now, over the years, I had grown accustomed to the sight and loved the idea of the money flooding in.  
  
Standing at the balcony now, with the glass chandeliers clattered on the floor and the lower floor scattered with overturned slot machines, similar appliances and people running around in no particular direction, I was overcome with a different sort of feeling. Pride, perhaps. What had once been a prosperous business I had seized without so much as a few bits of DNA. A father with the right connections was enough for me to make the income greater than ever.  
  
And yet there was the guilt, the biting at the back of my brain telling me that I shouldn't let go of my rightful inheritance so easily. Everyone made mistakes, and I could recover from this.  
  
I shut my eyes to block the sights. I concentrated on the darkness to heed no attention the noises that surrounded me. I wanted to lose myself in a world where I didn't have to face such a downfall.  
  
I vaguely felt it was right to finally let the casino fall after all this time – I just hoped that Father would forgive me for such a rash decision. I had nowhere to return to, and I had grown so attached to the Silver Lynx I wouldn't want to do anything besides die with it. A casino with no money within its walls was miserable indeed. I was certain that all my ancestors before me would understand my actions.  
  
There was a loud crash, but I didn't feel the need to locate what it was. The screams were louder, more frantic.  
  
The money I had spent too long gathering was gone in a single day. I had admitted it as charity, but there was the undeniable greed of me wanting it back. It was rightfully mine, even if it wasn't rightfully earned in the first place.  
  
Yet, even though I hadn't intentionally planned for it, I had fulfilled the vow I had made when I first came to the Silver Lynx. I had thought of it as an evil that needed to be cut short.  
  
Then something stirred within me, wriggling at the pit of my stomach and scratching at the back of my throat. I tore at my head the same way my mother had, silently cursing. It was so dark.  
  
I couldn't open my eyes. I panicked. I needed to see my family. They had to know that I wasn't like my father or his father. I was Eon Green, a simple brother who merely wanted to do the right thing. I never wanted to hurt anyone, and I could finally admit I had disappointed those who depended on me. I had made one too many wrong decisions, and it was too late to amend them. Lady Luck had set out plenty of chances for me to realise, however I had been too blinded by power and corruption.  
  
And, like a nightmare normally did, I stirred in the eternal darkness and with only my semi-conscious, destructive thoughts for company.


	22. Time Isn't On My Side

For someone like me, it was incredibly hard not to be thrifty with money. I rented out a room in the cheapest inn I could find in this strange community of Twilight Town, and as I sat up in the creaky bed now, I was overcome with the sinking feeling that Joker wouldn't serve me that morning or ever in the future. Her reddened cheeks as she planned out my outfit for the day, the beverage she served with slightly more sugar than I was used to (which I had grown accustomed to over the years).  
  
I let out a sigh as I threw the covers off me and paraded round the room in my underwear. The mission I had set my eyes on today was clothes shopping – I was a man who had never worn the same clothes twice in a row, and the same outfit never made its return until it had been dry-cleaned.  
  
Therefore as I got dressed into my torn suit again, I was repulsed. Although they had been folded over the course of the night, the crispness didn't return.  
  
There was little response from the innkeeper as I paid him the money for room rental. He was too busy scrubbing at the filthy counter to pay attention to my attire, which I was thankful for.  
  
However, as I returned to Station Heights to retrieve a newspaper, I knew instantly something was wrong.  
  
On the front page was news regarding the library once again, but instead of being completed, the headline now read that it was 'revealed to be complete soon'. It was no wonder the innkeeper didn't pay attention to me – the date was written as the week before. It was likely then that I hadn't worn the same clothes one day after another.  
  
I tossed the paper onto the wall of Station Heights and brought myself on it so that my back faced the town. My eyes lifted towards the clock tower. How did I end up like this? It wasn't normal to skip past two years, end up in a completely different world and then wake up seven days before. It was all a really bizarre, really vivid dream.  
  
Soon I would wake up with a throbbing headache with far too much to drink.  
  
Turning the pages of the paper, I gathered a bit more information about Twilight Town. The names I saw the previous day cropped up again, and it was easy to tell that it was such a small place that everyone knew each other. The pace of things was incredibly slow, perhaps ideal for me.  
  
"Keeping up with the place, I see. I have to admit though, who stole your wardrobe?"  
  
I looked up from the paper. I assumed that from the closeness of his voice, he was talking to me.  
  
The gentleman had one too many grey hairs than my father and the first Joker put together. I supposed it didn't help a great deal the fact they were in two obvious streaks that met the black hairs in a sleek ponytail. His scar across his face and weathered appearance told me he had been capable in fights despite his age, and his build beneath the long coat also clarified my assumption.  
  
"Can I help you?" I asked, sceptical. Although he was acting friendly towards me, Liam was proof that I shouldn't assume.  
  
He let out a groan. "Come on, poker. I'm revving to go."  
  
I didn't know what he was trying to say, but it appeared that this wasn't the first time that I had met him. I had also been playing poker with him for some reason or another, although that too would fall into place when the time was right. Perhaps this was the gentleman I would later on drink with at the bar.  
  
I felt for my top pocket, and in the second that I found my packet of cards was missing, my hands clasped around them. It was hard to believe, but it was like they had simply appeared there. Things around me got stranger, and I needed an explanation soon.  
  
I passed five of the cards to the stranger, dealing them on the wall for myself alternatively. I kept the cards close to me so that they wouldn't blow away, and I arched an eyebrow at my cards.  
  
The stranger took three, and as I knew the outcome from my cards, I was victor. I always had a knack for winning, but getting four of a kind right off the bat was beyond comprehendible.  
  
"Looks like you win again. I'll stop by tomorrow." The man smiled toothily as he returned his cards to me along with 1000 munny he withdrew from his coat pocket. He turned on his heel as he waved. "Ciao."  
  
I wanted to ask his name, but if we had met before, then that would look appalling on my part. I will get his name sooner or later.

* * *

I heard it the very next day, at least on my timeline. According to the papers, it was four days before.  
  
Having gone on quite the shopping entourage the previous day, I had felt considerably better in a new suit and with money to spare for the nights at the inn. I had even bought the bare necessities, including the razor and now I was considerably happier with my appearance to not look so rundown.  
  
For most of the day, I kept my head low. I disliked the time-jumping as it made a lot of difference to who I could talk to. As I took the corner seat of the bar I had grown a liking to, it made it better how the barman paid less and less attention to me. Today, he even gave me the wine I ordered without a word of disagreement.  
  
I was pondering my dilemma when the door opened. The man picked me out immediately and crossed towards me.  
  
"Evening," I greeted, offering him the seat opposite me.  
  
He slumped into it, exhausted. "Thanks." He regained his breath before he hollered, "Beer over here!"  
  
I leaned back in my chair. In the future, would he be the one responsible for my change in drink? I had never liked something as lower-class as beer – wine was all I knew, and despite its bitter taste to the tongue, there was more appeal to it.  
  
The barman came over several minutes later, and the two of us didn't exchange any further words until the gentleman had drained his tankard.  
  
He exhaled sharply. "Sorry about that – had a rough mission."  
  
I narrowed my eyes as I tried to see past his poker face. He was open, but he wasn't throwing his cards on the table. He wanted to say something, but he was having trouble finding the right way to bring it up. "I'd rather you cut the small talk," I ordered. I had always been the authority figure, and although I had lost the reminder that I was, it was still in my character.  
  
"You're not going to like it," the stranger warned.  
  
I laughed wryly. "There are a lot of things I don't like at the moment. You might as well add a few more to the pile."  
  
He smirked, and it was so twisted it could have passed off as knowing. "Very well. Name's Xigbar, and I'm here to collect you."  
  
I lowered my head as I leaned across the table. That explained his persistence. "Tell me, Mister Xigbar, what is it that you demand of me?"  
  
"Just Xigbar's fine," he replied, waving a hand lightly. "And I'm here to represent the Organisation."  
  
I smiled. "It sounds like the sort of name a gang of underground louts and hooligans." I wanted to start over, not get involved in even worse deeds than creating hundreds of financial problems for others.  
  
Xigbar laughed, and it was the sort that raised the heads of every head in the bar. "Maybe we are. I'm sure you've noticed it as well, but you're one of us."  
  
"Is that right?" I said curiously as I swirled the wine in its glass. "Did you wake up two years later as well?"  
  
His visible eye blinked. "Not exactly. Organisation members did wake up one day to be different than they remembered. All of us were born with no hearts."  
  
"That's easier said than done," I retorted, pointing the glass towards him. "Humans can't survive without a heart to keep them going."  
  
"We're not human," Xigbar cut in sharply. "We're Nobodies. Creatures of darkness with intellect and appearance of a human, but nothing on the inside. We're shells of what we used to be. Did you ever wonder why you didn't wake up at home?"  
  
I nodded. "You've said a lot, and I want to clarify things." I had to be top of my game, and Xigbar was no exception. "You said that we aren't human. To put no finer point, I was born one."  
  
"Yeah, before." Xigbar snickered again, and much quieter thankfully. "This is the bit that everyone hates to hear. Let's just say that you died, and now you're back. However, all the pieces weren't put back in quite the right place and now you're only half the person you were before."  
  
It wasn't impossible that I had died – I spent my last moments in a building burning down to the ground. I could accept that poor excuse of an explanation for the moment. "And if we're not human, then the heart isn't necessary to keep us alive."  
  
Xigbar shrugged. "Yes and no. For the time being, we're alive but we're not meant to be like this. In order for us to exist properly, we discovered that a heart is essential. At the moment, we have members finding people like us and the more specialist ones trying to find such a way to get them back. Which brings me to why I'm here."  
  
I sipped my wine to give me a moment to think. The timeline would be ruined if I went with him now, and there was no telling he could sort out that problem. I didn't mind having no heart or everything else he said – I just wanted a normal routine. And with a chance to work underneath someone…It could be a valuable experience. "How's this: win a game of poker against me, and I'll join your cause."  
  
I reached for my top pocket, and once again the cards were already in my grasp with nothing to suggest that they were there before. I lay them in between us, letting the proposition run in circles in Xigbar's head. I knew he would accept, and I knew I would win for at least four days in a row.  
  
I wasn't ready to go elsewhere for the time being.  
  
"Oh, and loser has to give the other player 1000 munny. It's not hard for you to gather, is it?"  
  
Xigbar grinned. "Those are your stakes? You're confident." He snatched up five cards, and the game was on.


	23. Time and Time Again

Asking for 1000 munny made things that much easier for me. I would wake in the morning and count the munny and how many different items of clothing I had to know approximately how many days had passed. The different pair of trousers that was folded on the chair was positively bursting from both pockets, and the newspaper had agreed and said that it was sixteen long days after yesterday.  
  
I didn't meet Xigbar in what had been assumed as the usual spot, but when I was on the sandlot playing with a card. I had dug out the Ace of Spades that I had stuffed into my trousers the day I had let my casino crumble, and was now fingering its edges. The metal was considerably rusted, but it was evidence enough that the two years that were just gone were not a mere imagination.  
  
"That looks painful," he commented as he leaned forwards to see it better in his good eye.  
  
I smiled as I slipped it out of sight. "It's a memento," I explained. "Nothing more."  
  
"Does it hold a story?" he asked interestedly.  
  
Besides a similar card stabbing a rebel in the leg? "Nothing in particular. This does." I went for my inside pocket and held my father's watch by its golden chain. "I have loved this since I was young, and only came in my possession when my father passed away. It also helps me realise that time has moved on – before I came here, it was running as normal. Now, the battery's run dead at three minutes to nine."  
  
Xigbar whistled his approval. "Looks good though. Were you rich before?"  
  
I laughed as I also hid the watch from sight. "Rich is an understatement. How about you? What were you like before?"  
  
He shrugged. "A nasty piece of work. Average on the outside, with a decent income and that. Don't get me wrong, people become Nobodies because they're tempted by the darkness. I'm a different person since then."  
  
"Fair enough," I answered. "My opinion of you hasn't changed."  
  
He gestured to my front pocket. "Let's get started. The quicker we get this done, the better."  
  
He was getting frustrated, and I knew that the moment he cut the idle chat. Had he been trying to persuade me to join these sixteen days since we first met? Who knows how long he would keep on trying in the future, and he must have been desperate to keep trying like this.  
  
"How much longer are you going to follow me?" I asked nonchalantly. I had no intention of dealing the cards – if all the events were independent, then I had to make the most of them whilst I could.  
  
Xigbar folded his arms. "However long it takes for me to win against you. Superior's intent on recruiting you, Luxord."  
  
I couldn't hide my interest. There had to be the stage where I revealed my name to be something other than what it actually was. Or maybe he had misheard it. "My surname's Ludor."  
  
Xigbar exhaled. "Yeah, you told me. And I explained to you already that a new name is appropriate for a new lifestyle not only yesterday." He glanced over his shoulder, as though he wanted nothing more than to get away from me.  
  
In that case, in order to fully capture his attention again, I had to get him to play by my rules.  
  
"You're never going to win, the cards are rigged," I said lightly, and I could see the creases on Xigbar's face as he contorted a look of utmost frustration.  
  
"Are you trying to make it difficult? I have the Superior breathing down my back all this time, and you're not making it any easier."  
  
I smiled, although perhaps it was more like a smirk. I always had the look of an arrogant business tycoon, and I doubt it was impossible to discard it completely. "Of course, I respect that it's difficult for you to understand, but I have a valid reason. This is only the third time that I have met you."  
  
Xigbar frowned. "What about all those times before? Have you got a twin or something?"  
  
"Nothing like that," I replied through a laugh. "For me, those moments are yet to come. Ever since I ended up in Twilight Town, I haven't been able to approach day-to-day life properly."  
  
"You're a Nobody. Being around people with hearts is bound to make you feel jittery."  
  
"I like to think it's something more," I pressed. I had to make sense of it, especially talking out loud to someone. "It's like the days are simply erased and I'm being rejected from the timeline. And as part of its defence mechanism, I'm being shunned in either direction."  
  
He laughed openly. "Are you saying you're time travelling?"  
  
I nodded sagely before elaborating my problem further. "It sounds great, but four days in and it's becoming quite a bother. I go back, forwards and I need to make mental note of what's been said and done in this town. I have to think before I say things that haven't happened before, and I have to adjust myself to what I seem to have done in the past."  
  
"That's something you don't hear every day," Xigbar mused as he took the liberty into joining me on the bench. It was a good thing that he did – I knew that this problem wasn't something that could be sorted out in a matter of sentences. On the plus side, he had become less eager to get away. "That explains why there are days you simply vanish, or why you said things like you knew what would happen later on."  
  
I grinned. "It appears that I have slipped a few times already."  
  
Xigbar leaned forwards with his elbows on his thighs. "The drinks gave it away. Early days, you're fine with beer. Next day, you'd protest and say you've never touched the stuff and stick with wine." He shuddered. "Never liked the stuff, as if! And then there were times you would spit it out and say that it was disgusting. It had me worried."  
  
"Slip-ups that couldn't be helped," I muttered under my breath. "If you could, would you mind explaining why I'm like this? Two years of my life has simply gone and it puts me in a greater predicament if I can't even live the way I used to."  
  
Xigbar furrowed his eyebrows, his visible yellow eye narrowing considerably. "As I've said, this is something new that we've come across. I can only say that your individual power is time, and you're taking a few moments to grasp control over it."  
  
Something hit me as he said those words. I always took my time with things when I was Eon, and I was always pushed into schedule when I was a Ludor. And now, perhaps there was turmoil between those two personalities. It made reasonable sense – the times when I was in the darkness beyond closed eyes, I was struggling to realise who I truly was. Even now, I considered myself more a Ludor even though I had been Eon for longer. That was probably why I had revealed my name to be so, and there was probably an explanation why it later changed to Luxord.  
  
I reached into my top pocket once again for the cards. "I'll change the rules. I'll join you when you win, same as before, but I will let you win when I'm ready. If I am what you say I am, there is every possibility that I will be able to harness this attribute over time."  
  
Xigbar made a sound of agreement. "Perhaps that's for the best. I can see why you didn't want me to win now – it takes a lot for a man to go quietly with a…I forgot what you called us."  
  
I laughed softly. "A gang of underground louts and hooligans."  
  
"Yeah, that. Trust me when I say this, but you need us as much as we need you in the Organisation. We can help."  
  
I withdrew the cards from my suit jacket. "When my timeline stabilises, I'll let you know. It'll keep you on your toes at least, you have to admit."  
  
He folded his arms once again. "You're bleeding me dry here, that's what you're doing. How do I know that when you're back to normal? We're not human, but Nobodies are a right pain when they're born."  
  
"And you're telling me to trust you?" I joked. I knew that he was just being cautious, but taking the bait without so much as a second thought was the sign of someone not to be trusted. "I am the sort of man who would do anything to keep his word. I hope that's enough."  
  
I didn't wait for an answer. I waved the packet of cards slightly in front of me. "A round of poker for fun? Or would you rather go to the bar?"  
  
After a few moments of thought, he grinned. "Might as well brace you for the future at the same time, right? Beer isn't everyone's idea of fun, but you have to get used to it whether you like it or not."


	24. Standstill

After what seemed like an infinite number of days of unrest and aggravating encounters with Xigbar, I let out a breath that I had been holding when I read Tuesday's date on the morning paper. With ten days in a row being consistent, I knew that I had finally become corporeal.  
  
Xigbar was just as relieved as me when I gave him the pleasure of winning the poker game as promised.  
  
"Are you really back to normal?" he exclaimed, once again startling the people in the bar.  
  
I brought a leg over the other as I smiled. "Yes. It's been normal for a while, but I wanted to ascertain it."  
  
"Can't blame you. Don't know if you read the papers, but I've been at it for six weeks. We've both had it rough, wouldn't you agree?" He turned on his chair, waving a hand. "Another round!"  
  
The barman gave a high thumbs up to acknowledge the order, but I wasn't feeling the excitement. I had been stuck in this place too long, unable to start over like I had intentionally hoped for. I had grown attachments towards certain areas of Twilight Town, but it just wasn't the place for me.  
  
"I'd rather skip the celebrations," I said as I got onto my feet. "If there's a location we're meant to be, then let's be on our way. I don't think it's polite to keep the one you call Superior waiting, especially after six weeks."  
  
Xigbar shrugged. "You have a point. Are you set to go?"  
  
"I've got everything I need packed back at the inn. I'll need to swing by there, but other than that, yes." I took out some munny from my pockets and left it at the table. "It's not far from here."  
  
He too got onto his feet and paid for his own drinks, and we didn't say much else until I had retrieved my baggage. It felt strange leaving this place, but I knew for certain that I wouldn't be missing it. I had memorised nearly everything that happened here, and living a jumbled timeline was more than I bargained for.  
  
If bargained was the right word for living a second life. It certainly didn't feel that way right now.  
  
I met Xigbar outside the inn, and he gave the suitcase a look of acknowledgement. I had bought a number of suits in recent days, however had donated them elsewhere once I had worn them once. Now all that was inside the briefcase was the necessities and some cufflinks I had grown rather fond of when visiting the accessory shop.  
  
"Before we go on our way, I want you to try out something." Xigbar held out a hand, and to my surprise, a black swirling abyss appeared at his command. It was incredibly eerie and haunting, with its purple tentacles pouring out, but there was something about it that pulled me in. "It's known as a portal. By controlling the darkness, we can walk these dark corridors with ease as well as conjure them up at will. Therefore, we can use this as a means of travel."  
  
He lowered his hand, leaving the portal where it was. "It's not difficult. Just create a portal in front of you with a certain destination in mind. Give it a try."  
  
I passed his test without a word, and it was almost like something was squirming down my arm as I did so. I wasn't afraid of it though – if Nobodies were shells, then the things that kept us going within had to be darkness. Knowing that, I thought instantly that darkness was part of us.  
  
Xigbar nodded. "And to cut the link, you simply let go. Easy as that. Shall I take you to the World That Never Was?"  
  
"Where's that?" I asked as I let my portal to home disperse and vanish. It was laughable to have talents of controlling darkness, but with my time-travelling and tendency to let cards appear in my pocket even though I check beforehand that it's card-free, I had become more open to such impossible things.  
  
"Headquarters. It may not sound it, but it's a nice place to be." He gestured for me to go through the portal, and I did so.  
  
If darkness was inside all of us, then it didn't bode well with proper darkness. Somewhere inside me, something lifted its ugly head and bared its teeth. I could feel outstretched disembodied hands fingering at the hem of my trousers, and with every step I took I felt considerably uncomfortable.  
  
"It's not for long. Once we get you to the other side, we have protective resources to keep the darkness at bay."  
  
No sooner had he said that, we were on presumably the other side of the portal. The world that Xigbar wanted to take me to.  
  
It was stark white, and it took my eyes a few moments to adjust themselves. I was in a building of sorts, and now I could look at it properly, there was certain grandness about it. If it was the handiwork of men, then they had to be perfectionists. There wasn't a smidgen of grey on any surface.  
  
"There are coats, shoes and gloves in that cupboard over there. I need to run a few errands to properly welcome you into the fold, so take your time." He summoned another portal, and I was left on my own.  
  
I did as I was told – it was apparent that a uniform was compulsory, and I was right when I stared into the wardrobe of black.  
  
I recognised it immediately as the coat that was in a very similar style to Xigbar's. Although it wasn't particularly to my taste, I took one out and held it at arm's length. I knew instantly that the sleeves were a little long, but I didn't mind the slightest. Although it wasn't tailored, it still looked like a reasonable fit.  
  
Despite Xigbar's extended permission, even when I mentally argued which between two sets of boots fitted me better, Xigbar made his return quicker than I had anticipated.  
  
"Everyone's gathered in the Round Room. We're ready whenever you are."  
  
I must have looked absent-minded to him, for he soon asked whether I was still feeling queasy about earlier. "No, I have things on my mind. When you came here, did you expect things to be different?"  
  
He glanced over his shoulder in thought. "Admittedly, I do think that the workings here are below expectations. But hey, there's not a whole lot we can do to sort that out." He lazily looked back at me. "Are you reconsidering?"  
  
"No, it's nothing," I reassured him. "As I've said before, I'm not the sort of person who goes back on his word. It's just…surreal."  
  
Xigbar clapped me on the shoulder, and I almost lost my balance despite his being shorter than me. "You'll get used to it; we've all gone through the same process. Let's introduce you to the rest."  
  
He summoned a portal and let me go first. I didn't know if it was because of the attire, but the darkness slinked in my shadow. Perhaps there was something more to the uniform than equality amongst its members.  
  
"Number X, Luxord."  
  
I couldn't sense Xigbar behind me, but I pressed forwards. I was in what I assumed was the Round Room, presumably referring to the towering chairs that encircled me. I looked left and right, and could only assume that the portal closed behind me, and as I looked up, many like me stared right back.  
  
The chair directly in front of me was easily the tallest, and it was an easy assumption to make that he was the leader. He was wearing the same as everyone else, which surprised me considerably. It was hard to determine if it was because he wanted to gain the benefits the coat had over darkness or if he considered himself on par with his subjects.  
  
"Let us welcome the one with power over time," the Superior announced, and I knew it was him as there was silence on all sides. "It has been a while, and we are all delighted you could join us today."  
  
There was a swirl of purple to the leader's right, and recognised the figure to be that of Xigbar. Being at the centre of the ring, I didn't know what was expected of me. Did I have to prove I was worthy to join, or did I have to demonstrate some form of competence?  
  
"I trust that all mishaps regarding your power have been resolved?"  
  
I interpreted it as a rhetorical question, but I nodded regardless. It was always good to be on the safe side just in case, and from what I recall from my life as the casino owner, rhetorical questions answered was better than taking a risk in not replying a proper question.  
  
"Do you have the ability to summon a weapon of your own?"  
  
Weapon?  
  
I instinctively looked towards Xigbar, who didn't show any sort of movement to suggest he was going to help me. "I had received no knowledge of that kind."  
  
"Very well." His tone was flat, and sliced through the air with surprising ease despite the height difference. "It will appear to suggest that your weapon, or weapons, isn't anything that has been triggered during your weeks of adjustment. Or perhaps you simply aren't aware that the weapon's on you, and practical application is necessary. Xigbar, if you don't mind."  
  
All eyes were on Xigbar as he brought one arm over the side of the chair. "Sorry mate. I hope you're ready."  
  
And without warning, a single gun appeared in his hand. It was different to the ordinary revolver seen at Russian roulette or the handgun both Jokers had with them at all times, but its assembly was unmistakeable. I didn't know where it had come from, especially knowing from the chair's framework that nothing could be concealed in it, but I had to focus solely on the problem with a level head.  
  
I didn't panic as a rain of purple bullets started the descent towards me. Like when dealing with a difficult opponent, I had to strip the defensive layers one at a time. I dodged the first one with a slight sidestep, next few with a roll. However, I stayed crouched on the floor after that. What was the point in running? I was never one for fitness, and there wouldn't be many chances for my weapon to appear if I kept avoiding the problem.  
  
My eyes narrowed as the bullets got nearer. It was do or die.  
  
I focused on the bullets, stopping them in the air and losing all velocity they had gathered in the air. Perhaps they would call me a cheater, but that wasn't too far off the track. A top business rarely gets to the top without a few tricks up its sleeve.  
  
I instinctively reached for my pocket, but I realised there that there was little point. It made perfect sense about where my weapon was. I simply hadn't taken real notice of it, despite all the signs.  
  
Bringing a hand to my face as I got onto my feet, I clasped my fingers to my thumb and trapped several cards in between that had seemingly come from nowhere. To other people, there was only three. As a matter of fact, there was a lot more than that. More than the 52 that an ordinary deck contained.  
  
I pushed myself to jump backwards, expelling the cards from my grasp and aiming directly at the bullets frozen in time and in complete standstill. Thinking for it to be on target would be more appropriate – it was humanely impossible for someone to have perfect aim when firing more darts than the brain can handle, let alone for the first time. The cards didn't boomerang back to me, but it was more like I let them go and ordered them back in my hand.  
  
At first nothing happened. Then, the purple streaks continued to the floor that I was now clear of and broke into half as they approached impact.  
  
In spite of these cards being considerably plainer and bearing strange symbols across the back, it had the same sharpness as the Ace of Spades that was still in my trousers pocket.


	25. Hourglass

The rest of the meeting continued without any instances. I was assigned a seat amongst their number, selecting an average height to enable myself more scope.  
  
I learnt that the Superior's name was Xemnas, and was widely respected by every member. Or from what I could interpret – a number of people had their hoods up and therefore I couldn't tell what they were thinking beyond their concealed faces.  
  
It was ironic, really. How a big-time casino owner had gone to serve someone else in the search for a heart of sorts. In my past life, it was hard to tell that I had much of a heart then. There were conflicts regarding where it resided, but it was definitely there. And now, not having the full deck to play with made things more troublesome. Compassion was vital to understanding more about the people you work with, and I sincerely hoped that my colleagues had twice as much order and integrity to make up for it.  
  
Being at the lowest was an interesting turn and a rare opportunity to see how the Superior dispatched his soldiers and what lifestyle it had to offer. On top of my pursuit of a heart (which, admittedly, didn't mean a tremendous deal to me compared to the others), the only thing I really wanted to do was observe. To learn about the hierarchy we lived in, the commandership, the loyalty. To what extent could a group of ten do to pursue a united goal?  
  
It was a challenge nevertheless, and as a client, I couldn't turn down the offer of being part of the Organisation. If the Superior required my assistance to make the Organisation function the way it's supposed to, then I had to do my best to serve the Ace of the suit.  
  
Therefore, when I was announced on my first mission with someone by the name of Axel, I was all ears for the task we would embark on. When I was human, I rarely ventured outdoors. Knowing that I would be exploring other places, I couldn't contain my excitement.  
  
Of course, being a gamer, it didn't necessarily appear the way most people would have done in the same situation.  
  
"The mission brief mentioned that downtown needed to be sweeped. What does that mean?" I walked considerably quicker than the redhead, who I realised immediately had been sitting next to me in the meeting. It was hard to mistake those bright green eyes for anyone else.  
  
He took the paper from me and gave it a skim. "Probably means they're giving us the command for crowd control. Dusks here can get rabid or conspire, so it's necessary to cut down their numbers on a regular basis. Superior's rather paranoid regarding them, but ultimately they're disposable."  
  
I arched an eyebrow. "Then why are we clearing the table?"  
  
"Perhaps he found your talent to be useful in this field," he suggested, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. "Or, if you want to see the flipside, perhaps he thinks this is all you're capable of."  
  
I smiled as some rather bizarre creatures morphed out of the ground. They were all white and swayed in the same way the foam of a large wave would. "Both appeal to me. After all, this is a chance I can't afford to slip through my fingers. Are you up for a game?"  
  
Axel frowned. "It's only a sweep, nothing to get worked up about. It's the lowest job imaginable."  
  
"Then what's the point of doing a mind-numbing job if you don't put yourself at risk or have even the slightest bit of fun?" I countered, summoning my cards into my hand. "It'll make it go quicker at least."  
  
He laughed as he too summoned his weapons. I took note of the sharp spokes on his chakrams, and how perfectly they fitted in his grasp. How he knew how to use such weapons, or how he came to possess them for that fact, I was mildly curious about. "Well, you can certainly release a lot of stress at these punks. They only fight back in clusters."  
  
I gave my attention to the Dusks again. They certainly gave the impression they didn't want to be on their own, as three more sprouted behind them. "How's this: we have one minute, and whoever kills less owes the other a drink."  
  
Axel tilted his head. "That's unfair on you. I'm a pro."  
  
"And you're also number VIII, if I did my research properly. You're just as much of a learner as I am." I flicked a few cards out in front of me to keep the Dusks at bay. Now that I knew how to use them to their full potential after practising back at 'home', it was quite an elegant weapon. Not up to Axel's standards, but they were ideal for me. "And handicaps – what's not to like about them?"  
  
"I take your point," Axel mused as he swung a chakram in his hand. "I'll accept the offer. No cheating."  
  
"I wasn't planning to, but now you've suggested it, perhaps I will," I replied smoothly with a smile.  
  
Much to my anticipation, the Dusks kept coming as Axel and I tore down their numbers. There was the permanent heat that lingered in the air as Axel hurled his chakrams at the white creatures, killing two at a time every five seconds. I had learnt how to expand cards at will, and send a current of them spiralling to the sky in a rather painful shell around one Dusk. I killed one every four seconds.  
  
Therefore it didn't come as a surprise to me when time was up, that Axel was the better one of us.  
  
"Nicely done," I complimented as I sent more cards out directly in front of me. I didn't touch the Dusks though, letting them taste the water before they considered pouncing on me.  
  
Axel's wild hair brushed my neck as he turned his head. "Is time up already? I was just getting started."  
  
I grinned. "Let's extend it to two minutes."  
  
Our sweep continued as that until I was considerably fatigued and Axel called it a day. Although compared to him, my weapon was much lighter and required less effort to make the mark, I still found it hard to maintain concentration for long periods of time. Whether that was my personality kicking in or the lack of experience, I didn't know for certain which factor it was.  
  
Being in The Castle That Never Was meant that there was little point in using the portal. As we had done to get down here, Axel and I walked back up Nothing's Call towards the higher floors of the castle.  
  
"Per my terms, I'll need to treat you to a drink sometime. Twilight Town was where I was before I joined the Organisation. Xigbar and I frequented a quaint tavern. They do rather nice drinks there, although it may be a tad strong for a lad like you." I took note of Axel's light frame with a passing look. A considerably tipsy lightweight was not something I wanted to bring home upon my first week of being part of the Organisation.  
  
He waved a hand. "Their ice cream is great – I always loved the stuff. Bring me back one when you next go to Twilight Town, then that'll be enough for me."  
  
"Deal."  
  
Axel rubbed at the back of his neck as he grinned sheepishly. "Have you always been like this? Betting on things you know you can't win?"  
  
"No, I bet to socialise. I'm apathetic about whether the outcome works in my favour or not."  
  
He stopped in his tracks, and I did the same. I didn't think it wise that we separated. "Luxord, do you know the saying that old habits die hard?" He didn't say anything until I had nodded. "Here, we value our lives just as much as the next member. This isn't a game, but if you want to think of it as one, then survival would be the best word. We're Nobodies, creatures of darkness that have been cursed with thought and nonexistence."  
  
"What are you implying?" I asked.  
  
Axel shrugged. "You should watch where you make your move. Most of the time, people here don't show their true face."  
  
I laughed, and I believed that I startled Axel considerably. "A gambler knows to interpret their opponent beyond mere expressions and mannerisms. I've come to read people and see past everything that they let on. Opponents with no emotions, I find, are an equal match."  
  
"I'm confused," he stated.  
  
"In my lifetime before this, I inherited my father's casino for six years, and had spent six years prior studying its ways and learning how to dupe people, to put no finer point on it. Oftentimes, they were driven by emotions and made the act impulsively and irrationally. I watched them gamble their life away as I took their winnings with little regret." It was mildly embarrassing explaining it to someone who might not understand, but it made me come to terms that that was no longer me. "I think I have the right idea for survival."  
  
Axel's lips curled slightly as he continued the way up the ramp. "That's exactly what Saix said. Not those exact words, but the general gist."  
  
"Saix?" I remember his name in particular because of the bright blue hair and rather deep gash in the shape of a cross on his face.  
  
"Yeah, he and I came here together," he explained. "It's ironic though. Why the pair of you say that you can survive, but at the end of the day you've lost your hearts. Must have given in to something."  
  
The dying embers that lingered around Axel intensified, as though it was spontaneously reminding me of the Sunday that I had fallen to the darkness and embarked on my two year long struggle with myself.  
  
I shook my head. "Business wasn't good."  
  
"Happens to everyone," Axel countered swiftly.  
  
"Does everyone's business involve five generations' worth of dedication and upheld legacy?"  
  
Axel shrugged after a moment's pause. "Overbearing guilt, despair, anger, all that jazz. Figures."  
  
"How about you?" I chose to ask. Little did I know that just as much as Liam had, Axel could change his attitude in the blink of an eye. Unlike Liam though, Axel didn't need to go offstage to sort out his mask. He simply broke the fragile hourglass that kept the conversation banter going, letting the atmosphere burn in his proximity and letting the sand fall to the ground.  
  
He laughed. "Who knows?"


	26. At Snail's Pace

By the end of the week, I had familiarised myself with the members of the Organisation, the same way I had done with the folks in Twilight Town. True, it wasn't getting information from a local newspaper, but Saix apparently thought it appropriate for me to mingle slightly.  
  
I woke up early every morning out of habit, and it was unsurprising that when I went to the Grey Area, only two other people were already awake. Or awake and already on standby.  
  
"Luxord, once Lexaeus is ready to go, you two are to head out to Olympus." Saix ripped off a sheet of paper from his clipboard and forced it into my hand.  
  
"That's the target?" I asked as I examined the circular body of a rather large Heartless. Its emblem was plastered across its entire body, making my suggestion reasonable.  
  
However, perhaps it was too obvious as Saix rolled his eyes. "I would have been happier if you asked if it was going to be your partner," he remarked icily, then turned on his heel towards the large windows.  
  
I had yet to see Saix be anything happier than his current mood.  
  
I gave the sheet of paper one last look before folding it into quarters and putting it in a pocket. There was nothing much for me to do except wait for Lexaeus.  
  
I decided to sit next to the only other person awake. He was of a considerable build, and it was the first time I had seen him with his hood off. I knew already that Xaldin was Number III and was considerably burlier than everyone else in the Organisation, however his wild look certainly had a new perspective. I respected his appearance, battling my subconscious thoughts of unkempt eyebrows and little care in sideburns.  
  
He sat with his arms folded and straight backed. I sat with my back against the cushions with one leg over the other. In a way, we mirrored each other.  
  
"Are you waiting for someone as well?"  
  
Xaldin grunted at the question. "Demyx. Lazy, good-for-nothing slob, if you want my honest opinion."  
  
I blinked. I didn't ask for it, but it certainly gave me an insight of what both members in question was like. Xaldin's tongue had bite like a snake, and Demyx was hardly punctual. "Sounds like you'll be waiting for a while."  
  
"You bet," he snapped. "I'd die of old age if Nobodies could do such a thing in the first place. Seems to think he can go at a snail's pace and expect everyone to be fine about it. Bloody cheek."  
  
I laughed at his comments. For somebody who couldn't show emotion, he did have a lot of venom in his voice. I chose not to look at him, instead summoning up cards onto the coffee table directly in front of us. I could tell that Xaldin was watching my every move, and I didn't let that bother me as I placed the five of diamonds over the six of clubs. "Everyone has their own way of approaching things, although it's only natural for people not to accept the different attitudes."  
  
Xaldin grunted. "Wait until you get paired up with him. I'd like to see you last ten minutes with Number IX. If he does the work, he spends most of his time getting killed and if not, then he shoves everything onto you." He nodded sagaciously at his comment. "Let me know when you get paired up with him."  
  
"Very well," I replied as I brought a hand to my chin. I had the tugging feeling of what my next move should be. Solitaire was always a game that required intellect of what the card beneath contained.  
  
He pointed to the game, noticing how much concentration I had on it. "What's this then? It doesn't look like pairs."  
  
"Pairs is a game for the younger audience." I finally settled with the Jack of diamonds, and flipped over the one that was beneath it. Being the manipulator of the cards, I didn't have to physically pick them up, but it was infinitely more fulfilling to do everything myself. "Solitaire is the more sophisticated way of putting the suits in chronological order."  
  
Xaldin furrowed his bushy eyebrows. "If it's the adult way to do things, is there a way to lose?"  
  
"Naturally," I confirmed as I leaned back in my seat. "There are a lot of unknown cards that can't be reached unless others are uncovered, and it makes things especially challenging. It sounds simple enough, but you'll understand once you give it a go."  
  
"It's not my thing," he said bluntly. "The way I see it, the game looks like something a loner would do in his spare time."  
  
I cracked a smile as I took the interpretation with grace. "I wouldn't disagree with you – you hold a valid point. However, stimulating the mind in times of idle moments are what I think is more valuable than waiting like what you have been doing until now."  
  
The solitaire game I was half way through disappeared in an instant, snapping back into my hand as if they had never left. I was still rather entranced by my weapon choice, considering the fact both Jokers loved cards a lot more than I did. Roulette was what I considered my top pastime. "Besides missions, do you do anything else?"  
  
Xaldin gave me his most deadpan face yet. "When there's work to be done, there's no need to do anything else."  
  
"And yet here you are," I added smarmily, and I let my smile grow wider. "And there's another thing that's been bothering me. It's so quiet I can hear my own voice." I didn't elaborate how I had been accustomed to speaking slightly louder than normal to be heard over the immensely cheery music or the disputes at the betting tables. I also didn't mention that I found the noise to be normal and a comfort, and that it was exceptionally lonely to be left in silence now that it had gone with the wind.  
  
Xaldin scoffed. "Then you should treasure this moment."  
  
"I have the perfect remedy for this." I placed the cards on the table, dealing out five cards each. I knew that I had Xaldin's interest once more – capturing your audience's attention was crucial in delivering an idea. I had applied that knowledge many times in the past when suggesting improvements to the casino. "Poker. A multi-player game that's fit for those who understand the rules. And those who make noise play with those who make noise, and you can play with the adults if that suits you. It's not the game loners play at least – the Organisation severely lacks on the social aspect of life."  
  
He blinked. "Did someone spike your drink?"  
  
I got onto my feet as I saw the bulky figure of Lexaeus enter the Grey Area. He certainly looked intimidating, but it wasn't long until I learnt that looks didn't account for everything. The mysterious Number VI was constantly with him, swallowed up in his broad shadow and clinging the back of his coat like he was doing now. If a ten-year old could be comfortable with a man of such strong build, then there was little point of being afraid.  
  
"Unfortunately not. I'm pretty serious regarding poker. If you read up on the rules and you're willing to challenge me, I'll show you. Then you'll understand that I'm serious."  
  
I didn't know if Xaldin considered the proposal, but as Lexaeus and I made last minute preparations for our mission, I saw it at the corner of my eye. Xaldin fingered the edges of the cards, and that little temptation was all that was required to pull people into the casino, gambling and ultimately my field of expertise.


	27. If Years Had Wings

There was little I could do to stimulate my lifestyle in the Organisation. I took part with missions, even finally being paired with Demyx (where Xaldin's brief analysis of him was rather spot-on), and set up a poker league amongst peers to get the minds going. Xaldin himself seemed more and more interested in the cards and engaging other people in competition, but all that still wasn't enough for me.  
  
Therefore when everyone was called to the Round Room ten months later, nothing in the past had captured my attention more than Number XI.  
  
Even though the Superior had announced him as Marluxia and the powerful stench of flowers flooded the entire room, I knew him immediately. Those piercing blue eyes were impossible to mistake, and even being high in my seat I could feel the taste of blood on my lips as I stared at him harder.  
  
After all this time, I had finally got the chance to meet with him again. If years had wings, that all that time he had been missing, then reuniting with him now wouldn't have touched me as much as it did now.  
  
I failed to realise I was missing a heart a second too late, and all the emotions I felt all this time didn't fade. It simply lingered, brushing the side of my empty stomach as an attempt to make me feel something from the fate that had unfolded.  
  
What were the odds that Liam had taken the number suited for Jack? Was it also coincidence that he had appeared only months after I came here?  
  
I hardly paid attention to the Superior as he spoke of weapons and attributes the same way as he had done with me. I was fully aware that it was rude, but I couldn't take my eyes off Liam. When he demonstrated his scythe in action, I had grown more respect for him.  
  
I knew that he wasn't the greatest friend, taking the desperate measures that I would never have dreamed of, but Liam did have a charm about him.  
  
And now that he was here, that charm amplified. If years had wings, he wouldn't appear so different as he did now. Now that he had lost his heart in some way too, and presumably hadn't battled for two years in nothingness, there was something we had in common.  
  
Whether he was much different than what my distant memories could say, I could only give it a test run.  
  
Marluxia was offered a seat, and the meeting proceeded without incidence. Although I was eager to receive even a look of acknowledgement of my existence, he chose himself a chair of a considerable height and rarely took his eyes off the Superior.  
  
I refused to think he had selected a higher chair so that he wouldn't have to see me on the side lines – I thought it more appropriate that he couldn't adjust himself to do someone else's bidding. Liam was the sort of person who was his own master.  
  
I had to wait until after the meeting to finally say something to him. And even then, I went on quite the excursion to find his exact location.  
  
"Evening," I said cheerily as I walked out the portal. Altar of Naught was just as barren as the rest of the castle, but its open sky made it more spacious and homely than anywhere in the castle. It wasn't my top spot, being more an indoors person, hence why it was one of my last resorts. "My name's Luxord. I was formerly known as Jack Ludor. We were good friends in the past."  
  
I outstretched a hand, and Marluxia didn't make a sign that he was going to return the gesture.  
  
I let my hand fall to my side again. "Perhaps 'good friends' is a bold thing to suggest. We were a little more than acquaintances some time ago. You may have considered me a colleague." It was difficult to surmise exactly what our relationship was.  
  
It was so great to see him again, but I knew him too well to know that the smile he gave now was a sympathetic one. I knew what he wanted to say seconds before he said them out loud. "Really?" His tone was matter-of-fact, off-handed even.  
  
Without a heart, failure for recognition didn't sting in the slightest. I just had to keep going at tangents. "We met in Traverse Town, roughly nine years ago. We spent much time at the Silver Lynx."  
  
Bringing up my father would be a bad move right off the start. It was risky, and I didn't want to give the impression that I was conversing with him for revenge. With true gentlemen, revenge in the equation meant losing sight of the goal. I simply wanted to understand.  
  
Marluxia shrugged indifferently. "I travelled a lot in my time. Names like that just pass by me." He placed a hand on his hip as he sighed. "It's what happens when the memory gets overloaded with information – all the irrelevant ones have to make way."  
  
I let out a small sound of agreement. I didn't think Liam's significance in my life was something to be easily discarded, but perhaps there was something more about Liam that I never had the chance to uncover. After all this time, it seemed like that nine years did make a difference to how he was back then. How did he manage to give in to the darkness – my father's murder meant little, but was it the inducing flame that determined the rest of his life?  
  
I didn't let my thoughts affect how I outwardly appeared. Maintaining composure was the key to not giving the game plan away. "It's all right, I understand. I recall that you left Traverse Town in a Gummi Ship that you managed to save up for."  
  
He narrowed his eyes. "I don't remember the little details, but I do remember something about the ship. Fantastic machine, took me to all sorts of places I didn't even know existed. And now using portals does the exact same thing twenty times faster and without the maintenance."  
  
I smiled. I was all too aware of how much Liam loved the idea of getting out. I was happy for him to have realised his dream the same way I had. "One of the good things about being a Nobody."  
  
"Well it's certainly different," he remarked as he took a seat on the large ornament of the Nobody logo. He leaned back, gazing at me evenly as he tried to see my cards. "Whether it's good or not, I'll need to think about that. Do you like it?"  
  
I could tell he was probing me, playing the game equally as well. We both didn't want to reveal everything that we had on our minds. The question was who was hiding more secrets. "The people here are tolerable, the work's adequate. It's rather a step down from what you'd expect, but I assure you that you'll get used to it all."  
  
He narrowed his eyes. "I hope so. This coat is pretty nifty, so there's no saying that I could take off right now."  
  
"You wouldn't," I replied immediately. Just like he had done with me, Liam was calculating. Now that he was missing the Hearts, he was a more formidable enemy than anyone else in the Organisation could possibly imagine. And, just like he had done with me, he would take time to set out his plans exactly how he wanted things to be. I had to gain his trust if I wanted to find out more about him. I had to decipher what had become of my friend, who suddenly threw off his disguise on the morning of my twenty-first birthday.  
  
Marluxia laughed, and there was nothing quite like it. It was unrecognisable to what I recalled it to be. "You're right. There's little point in leaving when just starting out."  
  
I summoned a portal with a hand as an idea popped into my head. "Regrettably, I have something I need to attend to. I apologise for leaving you just as suddenly, however should you feel the need to talk to me, don't hesitate."  
  
In actually, I wanted him to be the one to approach me. It was only common sense to return the amicable gesture when someone new arrives at the Organisation. Offering him to be my friend again was the least I could do to make him fit in. I had all the cards laid out on the table – all he had to do was accept what I had in stock for him.  
  
I was almost through when something forgotten tantalised the back of my brain in a burst of energy. Like the first time we met, the most crucial things always seem to catch on at the last moment. "Although you may not remember, I would like to say thank you." I looked over my shoulder, examining Marluxia as I spoke. "When we were both Somebodies, you helped set me on my path. I am in your debt, and if there is anything I can do to return the favour, I would gladly do so."  
  
I widened my smile considerably, then walked through the portal to my room. It was a rather empty place, but I appreciated the gesture all the same. I strode across the room towards the desk facing the opening that accounted for a window, snatching up a sheet of paper from the memo block I had on the desk surface along with a pen with the other hand.  
  
My tongue prodded out between my lips as I concentrated on the drawing. Liam had mentioned that piercings would look good on me, and perhaps a new one would trigger his memory even slightly. Four loops were in the ears, and I had regrettably lost the fifth on a mission in Halloween Town – it was tough doing vigorous fighting in the dark and with Xaldin as a partner.  
  
I nodded in approval at the handiwork. To the average person, it was just an ordinary pattern one would get as a tattoo. But to the Organisation, it was what they were. I would take it down to Twilight Town tomorrow morning and get it custom made for me. I had always been at least marginally materialistic, but I was hoping memories forgotten didn't necessarily mean lost.


	28. Only Time Will Tell

As I had anticipated, Marluxia didn't approach me as an obligation to return the favour. I had coerced him into playing a few games with me, but he never requested my attention. Several weeks passed, but I was more than aware that he had already made a start on other, more devious plans.  
  
"Come on Zexion, show us what you've got!" Demyx shouted, leaning across his seat to peer at the boy's cards.  
  
Zexion quickly brought them closer to his chest, firing Number IX with a look of sheer annoyance. It was all in his eyes though, and that was the eerie thing about Zexion. He never said anything, and that made it all the more harder to work out what he was thinking.  
  
His eyes turned to me lazily as he let the cards fall onto the table, waiting for me to announce the victor.  
  
I did – it wasn't much of a competition, and I hadn't been fixing the cards. Demyx let out a long wail as he played the part as the sore loser perfectly. The age limit of gambling had lowered considerably since I introduced having a poker league.  
  
"You cheated, I know you did!" But Demyx was smiling broadly, throwing both his arms around Zexion's tiny body. "You may be mute, but you can't fool me!"  
  
I watched him fondly ruffle Zexion's hair, teasing him further as the boy didn't do anything but stare at him. It just went to show that friendship could go beyond hearts and words, and I had hoped that it would have been the same with me and Liam.  
  
And, right on cue, the warning smell of flowers strolled into the room shortly followed by its source.  
  
I gave a small wave in greeting to Marluxia before diverting my attention to clearing up after the long-forgotten game. It came as a surprise when I felt Marluxia breathing against my ear.  
  
"I need to talk to you for a sec."  
  
I turned my head to look over the top of the sofa just in time to see Marluxia summon a portal. "Sure. I'll be there in a moment."  
  
Leaning forwards in my chair, I placed the rest of the deck on the table and got onto my feet. "Zexion, I'll leave you with those."  
  
The boy nodded slightly, but his action was heavily restricted since Demyx's arms were around his neck and hiding most of his face from view. I followed Marluxia through the portal, rather intrigued about why he decided to talk to me after all this time.  
  
I knew immediately that we were in his room. It wasn't because the open space for the window had a single dying rose with its petals streaming across the sill. Neither was it because Marluxia had now flung himself onto the mattress and was now fluffing the pillow on there (Nobodies didn't get cold over the course of the night).  
  
I knew it was Marluxia's room because there was an uncanny ambiance despite the uniformity, something that was just beyond reach.  
  
"What is it you wanted to say?" I helped myself with the chair on the other side of the room, which was directly in front of the desk the same way my one was. I caught a glimpse of my new earring in the mirror. It gave me considerable confidence over the duration of when it came in my possession, for there was no occasion I would embark on a mission without it. It was a constant reminder of what I was, in how people with no hearts couldn't possibly have something as trivial as a decent friendship.  
  
In that sense, all connections I had with Marluxia was simply nothing more than necessary. Everything that we felt before was simply an illusion we couldn't be deceived by.  
  
All in all, the concerns that I had for him were carried across since I became a Nobody. They were simply echoes of what I regretted, leftovers of what my heart was most set on, and it became an obligation for me to look out for him. Whether he wanted me to or not, it wasn't something I could easily discard.  
  
As he gave a wry smile, pushing the pillow under his head, it dawned on me what Marluxia needed protecting from: himself.  
  
After all those years apart, Marluxia still had a youthful appearance. His hair was unkempt, yet the tips stuck out at such angles one could almost pass it as intentional. In a way, perhaps he was still a child inside, craving stimulation but keeping everyone and everything at arm's length. To truly enjoy life, he had to embrace whatever came about. Naturally he was unaware of his predicament, ignorant that his methods, although right in his mind, was not doing him any good.  
  
"I've been to countless places. I've experienced things and seen just as much. I was never bored because I could take off when there was no reason left to stay." He huffed his frustration in a sharp exhale. Blue eyes flashed underneath his long fringe. "Tell me: is there anything that's holding me back?"  
  
I cracked a smile. "It all depends on perspective. I wouldn't call the Organisation's affairs mundane, but I can understand why you would think that." To the man who did everything for himself and for his ultimate desire for exploration, certainly, the Organisation did little to account for that.  
  
Marluxia caught on my train of thought quickly, for he rolled over onto his back in resignation. "You tried to convince me that there's something here worth sticking around for. And, if you do know me as well as you claim, then you should be aware that I have little patience."  
  
It had taken tremendous patience to kill Father at the right time, I thought to myself. I crossed one leg over the other as an attempt to get comfortable. "Last meeting, the Superior mentioned that the wielder of a weapon called the Keyblade was vital to retrieving our hearts. Since my joining here, that has proved to be progress enough."  
  
He didn't reciprocate to the exciting news. Instead, he just gave me a bland look. "I wanted you to know at least that time has run short. If you don't mind, buy me a bit of time."  
  
I didn't even realise that my jaw dropped slightly. "I can't do that."  
  
"Not literally," Marluxia said through a tiny laugh. "I have bigger plans, and I'll need you to keep the main people off my scent. It wouldn't look so good on me if they suspected me right away."  
  
I narrowed my eyes as I attempted to find the angle he was trying. Undoubtedly, he was up to his old tricks again. But we were friends – if this was the way he wanted to go, and it didn't involve murdering anyone else, then I was more than willing to comply. I didn't want him to vanish in the wind again. If he was up to his old habits, I wanted to be there for him.  
  
"Do your bigger plans have Larxene in the equation?" She was the latest member of the Organisation, and I had noticed recently that Marluxia spent more time with her than anyone else so far.  
  
He outstretched a hand, summoning his scythe in a flurry of petals. "Now you're hearing what I'm saying. I'm being outrageous in making bold approaches, right? You need to cover for me."

* * *

I did no such thing. I knew what his wishes were, but the thing I came to understand about Marluxia was that he didn't say what he wanted outright. In most occasions, what he really wanted was the exact opposite, and he had planning everything around how I'd react even though he claimed to have forgotten about me.  
  
So when I approached Saix a few days later, I acted on my own instincts regarding Marluxia's actions. Yes they were outrageous, but he was someone who needed more stimulation than even a gambler like me.  
  
"What is it? I've already debriefed you on your mission." Saix knew that I was coming before I was even up to him, and to make things worse, he didn't even look up.  
  
I flashed my trademark grin. "Lexaeus already told me that he had something to finish up quickly before we go." I was right the way up to him now, making certain not to give the impression I was there to peek at his notes. I made the point to look ever so slightly away, but enough to still see his face. "I have something I would like to say regarding Marluxia."  
  
Saix' facial muscles didn't even twitch. "If it isn't mission-related, then there is no need to discuss the matter with me. If it's a complaint, then I have no obligation to do anything about it, nor do I care."  
  
It was hard to put that past him. Saix took the no-heart thing more seriously than anyone, although he did loosen up considerably when he was around Axel. The two of them were friends, despite losing hearts, the same way Demyx and Zexion were inseparable.  
  
"What if I told you he has ideas of his own regarding the Organisation?"  
  
I had hoped that something about Saix would change. The sharp movement of an eyebrow, an irregularity in his breathing. However, it turned out that nothing of the sort came.  
  
Saix' expression remained the same. "Then I suggest you keep your head straight and get back to work."  
  
I accidently let a laugh escape, unable to believe how incredibly hard it was to talk to him. Although he wouldn't trust me, I still needed to elaborate. Even if he didn't want to hear, he would still ultimately listen to me. It would linger at the back of his brain– all I had to do was simply implement the idea in a strategic way.  
  
"He told me that he doesn't bode well with the working of the Organisation. I hate to think that he would turn his disloyal back to us, but my concerns grow larger as Marluxia targets the new additions to join his cause. Whether Larxene takes a liking to his grand scheme, I dread to think." I ran a tongue over my lips – they were so dried up from nerves (which I hadn't felt for longer than I could remember). "Might I suggest that he's the bad apple of the barrel?"  
  
He must have thought of me as persistent, for he finally brought his clipboard to his stomach and stared at me fully. "Your input is insignificant. Any thoughts on such trivial matters will make you lose sight of our objective."  
  
I smiled triumphantly. "Which is exactly why I hadn't relayed my concerns until I was absolutely certain of Marluxia's intentions. If you want to claim the Keyblade wielder for yourself, having Marluxia out the picture would be better for everyone in the long run." I turned on my heel, implying that I was going to leave fairly soon.  
  
The trump card was compulsory to make the final touch. It'll take time before he'd take me seriously, and I knew that Saix wasn't fooled easily.  
  
"I knew him as a Somebody, and Liam would never swoop down to someone else's level unless he has something to gain from it. If the Keyblade is all that is required for the Organisation to reach its goal, he'll take it for himself. Keep a firm eye on the Keyblade wielder, whoever that may be, if you want them in one piece."  
  
I summoned a portal, letting my thoughts stretch the dark corridor to Wonderland, where my next mission was to be.  
  
"He said the same thing about you," Saix suddenly said. I arched an eyebrow, expecting him to continue. "Marluxia had his suspicions about you, and voiced his concerns several days ago. Gamblers are demons in human form, he said."  
  
I laughed heartily. "There is certainly some truth in that."


	29. The Decade of Silence

The following day was a lot more settled, with nothing more than a good game of poker to make the day go quicker. I had paid a rather absent-minded trip to Twilight Town, doing little more than drinking wine in the evening as a way to wind down. The Castle didn't have much of a kitchen, hence why it was compulsory to eat out or otherwise bring it back.  
  
Evening was approaching by the time everyone was back in the Castle, most round the tables in the Grey Area. The only ones missing were Vexen, Zexion and of course the Superior.  
  
It was rare to see Saix himself join us in recreation rather than standing by the window organising missions. Minus the fact he was deep in conversation with Axel, I was certain that he was still trying to keep as far away as the rest of the team. Marluxia had also taken a leaf from his book, opting to lean against the window and mutter several words to Larxene as he watched the poker game unfold.  
  
All in all, it was a successful way to finish the day. One by one, they all went to their own quarters to go to sleep, me being the last one as I was the host of the event. It was impolite of me to leave before the guests thought it right.  
  
As I went to my own room to retire for the night, I noticed immediately that someone was already on my bed, curled up and asleep.  
  
I didn't want to wake him up, but as I perched at the foot of the bed, Zexion's eyes snapped open. Despite his young age, he had endurance. I offered him my compliments for that.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." It was rather clear he hadn't been sleeping at all, regardless of the hour.  
  
Zexion shook his head, as though to tell me not to worry. Everything was about actions with Zexion.  
  
He made to sit up. "If you want to stay here, I don't mind. Is it Vexen?" To the scientist of the Organisation, Zexion was the obedient assistant in the lab. It therefore went without saying that the two never left the Castle, in much the same way Saix was the one in charge of keeping missions in line. Zexion rarely had any other contact except Demyx and Lexaeus, who was rumoured to have looked after him a lot in the past.  
  
They did say that actions spoke louder than words after all.  
  
Zexion shook his head again. He pointed to me.  
  
"There's something I've done wrong?"  
  
He smiled slightly, shaking his head once more and pointing to himself first then to me.  
  
"You and me?" A lot of guesswork was necessary if Zexion was calling the shots, but having the appearance of a ten year old did hit the sweet spot of those more vulnerable. I finally got there after several guesses. "You want me to do something?"  
  
Zexion finally nodded, bringing a halt to his wild gestures. He brought a hand to his chin as he tried to think of how to explain his request. He settled with drawing a circle in the air, then pointing to me again. Then, after he realised how vague it was, he started drawing the circle on the mattress and adding numbers to it.  
  
I realised immediately what he meant, taking out my father's pocket watch from within my coat. "Are you talking about this?"  
  
He nodded again as he stopped at four on the clock face he had drawn. He pouted as he once again faced the trouble of what to say what he wanted to.  
  
I had a notion then, getting up from the bed and snatching the pad and pen from my desk. "Perhaps it's easier if you could write what you want me to do. Would that be better?"  
  
Zexion's eyes lifted to the pad, and he gave another small nod. I placed the items in front of him, and busied himself as he wrote what was on his mind. He ripped off the top sheet when he was finished with it, handing it to me without looking up.  
  
_I want to age_  
  
The writing was scrawny, and I knew that he had been bursting to say that since I came into the room. I was about to ask him further, but I knew that that was exactly why Zexion was still writing.  
  
_I have been waiting for you for ten years_ , the second one said.  
  
"Ten years ago was when the Organisation started. That was what Xigbar said."  
  
_Nobodies don't age. I want to be older_  
  
I had to laugh when I read that note. I was aware of the fact, and I was aware that Zexion was young when he had submitted to the darkness. "Kids these days want to rush into being older. It's not as grand as what you imagine it to be. If you were to age, you'd be twenty."  
  
_Which is still only just about older than Demyx_  
  
"Before we do anything rash, what makes you think I can make you age?"  
  
Zexion was writing frantically on the pad, and I wouldn't be surprised if the imprints of the writing went through to the next sheet. I waited patiently for him to finish, imagining that I would have to read a lot. Which I did.  
  
_As Nobodies, I knew that everyone would have their own attributes. And Xigbar is the controller of space, so it was only a matter of waiting before the controller of time would join our ranks. I waited ten years, refusing to talk to anyone other than you this whole time and now I've lost how to speak. I thought it'd be easier this way and it would minimise the risk. You HAVE to make me age!_  
  
"Zexion, I've been in the Organisation for over a year now. You could have asked me any time before, why now?"  
  
The next note was much, much shorter than the one before.  
  
_Scared_  
  
I grinned. To most of the people in the Organisation, I liked to think of myself as rather approachable. That was one of the most important things about being a casino owner.  
  
Zexion reconsidered just then, snatching the paper from me before screwing it up in a ball and throwing it to one side.  
  
_I wanted to make sure you'd be capable. You can manipulate time better than you could a year ago, I imagine_  
  
Indeed, it was the case that I played with time when I had a spare moment. And there were instances I would do such things to entertain Zexion, for I knew that he found it rather mystifying. The same way I found his capability over illusions just as captivating.  
  
Now thinking about it, I wondered if he ever took his element to his advantage and cheated in card matches.  
  
"I can't say for sure how successful it will be. I haven't something quite this scale before."  
  
Zexion smiled as he rearranged his legs to be more comfortable. _You know more about risk than anyone. And I'm willing to go ahead. Just tell me the stakes._  
  
I sighed as I let the latest note fall onto my lap. "Where to start?" I outstretched my legs, crossing them over at the heel. "The largest one would be that it doesn't work. But the consequences wouldn't be bad, I don't think."  
  
I counted the rest on my fingers. "I'd have to change the timeline of you and therefore it would affect everything that people think of you. It's not a matter of making you age overnight; the timeline will have to start when you turned into a Nobody. The ten years you have experienced will be erased, and I'm not sure which timeline you would remember: this one or the aging timeline. If the former, there would be actions that you might not remember doing. If it's the latter, you may be subject to interrogation as Nobodies are not meant to age. There's no guarantee that you would remember everything that's happened so far. For example, would you still be Vexen's assistant if you aged? You might end up being a test subject because you're different from everyone else."  
  
_Then what will happen between me and Demyx? Is it possible for us to still be friends?_  
  
"I can't change that much of the timeline," I explained. "The only thing I can do is change you biologically, but whether you choose to stay with Demyx is entirely up to you. I mean that in the future sense," I cut in as Zexion started to write what I presumed was a protest. "You can't know for sure what you will do in the past. Strictly speaking, things will unfold the way they're supposed to. Once I make you age, everything you do will be concrete until this moment."  
  
Zexion nodded as he tore off the top sheet. He set it to one side and started again.  
  
_Are you sure there's nothing I can do?_  
  
"You mentioned earlier that you didn't speak to anyone, and as a result you lost your voice." I didn't meet him in the eye. I was the culprit of Zexion's silent streak, and found it hard to look at his passive expression as I brought it up. "If you were to age, there would be no reason to hold back."  
  
The next note was filled with hope, and I could almost feel the raise in pitch as he handed it over to me.  
  
_Really?_  
  
"If it all goes well," I emphasised. "I don't know if things would remain this way. The future is unknown, but that's what makes it interesting. Moreover, as the manipulator of the timeline, there's every chance my own timeline will remain unaffected. When it comes this time tomorrow, I will still remember this conversation. I can't say for certain if you will."  
  
Zexion poured over the pad again, and I knew that he wanted to say a lot. I waited patiently for him to finish so that he could concentrate.  
  
_It doesn't bother me. If you're the only one that knows, then I can live with that. It's humiliating being young. Vexen doesn't see my full potential, and despite me being more than capable, I can't even see the worlds that the others get to see. If this is what being a Nobody is like for someone with an appearance of being young, then I don't want it. No one thinks I'm 20 and still think of me as the kid, but I know that everything will change for the better if I looked older as well. Anything is better than now_  
  
"I wouldn't take this sort of thing lightly, changing the past, but…" I cracked a weak smile, looking fondly at the stream of papers across the mattress. "Is this really what you want?"  
  
Zexion didn't even write a note to confirm his final decision.

* * *

I woke up the next morning with a tremendous headache. I could almost have blamed it on alcohol if Zexion wasn't the first thing on my mind.  
  
The notes that I had left on the bed were gone, as well as the little boy that I had been talking to the previous night. I was uncertain how I had dozed off whilst in the aging process, however I knew there was the burning sensation at the back of my brain, as though I had been overexerting myself further than my capabilities.  
  
I got off the bed, preparing new clothes for the day. It was then that I noticed a stray piece of paper that had evidently come from my pad of paper.  
  
The handwriting was different to yesterday. It wasn't the scruffy writing of someone who relied on writing to communicate. Neither was it hurried or child-like, and the words were written on a perfectly straight line regardless of the absence of lines.  
  
It was the writing of a man who knew who he was, and the flowing writing could only tell that he had taken pride in himself.  
  
_Thank you for clearing matters up last night. The information you provided about my unique situation is most useful, and I would like to express my thanks for what you've done. If there is anything I can do to repay you, please let me know. I will arrange for us to go on a mission together this morning and I will happily clarify anything to get you up to speed. I'll be in the Grey Area._  
  
I smiled as I slipped the note into my pocket. It was a relief that things did turn out for the better, like ten-years-old Zexion had dreamed of.


	30. Making up for Lost Time

I knew that my world had changed the moment I had opened the door. Although everything was where it should be, I certainly felt that I was out of my depth. The corridor even smelt differently to how it was yesterday. There was always the constant pull at the back of my head, and I knew without even trying that my hold over time was severely impaired.  
  
I was aware that making Zexion age would make an impact on how the Organisation would see him, however there had also been some apparent adjustments as well. I made a mental note that my room was now two doors from where I was before and I would have to work out through process of elimination who my new neighbours were.  
  
When I entered the Grey Area though, I knew that the mechanics was all as I recalled it to be. Saix was still stood at the window as if he hadn't moved from his spot all night, flicking through the papers on his clipboard out of boredom. The settees and tables were exactly where they were supposed to be, but there was one person at the far end of the room already waiting.  
  
His hair was unkempt and stuck out at odd angles, and could have easily passed off as a plant if it wasn't a beautiful shade of silver. I could tell that Zexion had grown and matured considerably during his ten years of aging. His head had never reached past the back of the sofa, and although this was still the case, I noted how he had slouched considerably to read his book with comfort. He sported the same Organisation coat as us, and his legs reached the table with ease. As he turned a page very slowly from the top corner, I knew in an instant he had grown into a fine man.  
  
I still had the note Zexion left in my pocket, however I approached Saix first in case Number VI wasn't able to fulfil his request.  
  
Saix quirked an eyebrow. "What time do you call this, Luxord?"  
  
I did my best to compose myself. I had no idea what time it was, however judging by Saix' tone, I knew it was late. "I had a rough night. I assure it won't happen again."  
  
Saix' gaze was still stern. I noticed that there was a definite tiredness in his eyes and I tempted to ask if he had slept last night at all. "Zexion was insistent on the pair of you going on a mission together. I had to change a lot of my plans to accommodate this."  
  
"It won't happen again," I said again.  
  
"Zexion has the paperwork already." Although Saix didn't explicitly tell me to go away, I knew that was what he was trying to say. He was rough around the edges, and I could tell that the overwork was catching up with him.  
  
I nodded curtly before I left, and as I turned to approach Zexion, the boy had already closed the book he was reading and was dusting his front down. He had aged well, his younger self couldn't imagine how well. It was hard to see his face beneath his wild hair. He still had the right side concealed, but it wasn't enough to hide his look of relief and scorn (which, in itself, was impressive). No longer were his eyes of curiosity, but there was merely a flash of recognition. Although the Cloaked Schemed was a master observer, he had become a dependable member of the Organisation. Although he was clearly a man of precision, there were a few flecks of sand and chalk of other worlds he had missed from the soles of his shoes.  
  
Zexion didn't say anything to me until he had summoned a portal and we had both set foot onto Port Royal.  
  
"Now that we shouldn't be intercepted by any of the other members, we should be able to talk freely about our predicament here." Zexion gave a fleeting look at me before he took a few steps to lean on a nearby cannon. The ocean here was sparse, and the rampart had a very good view of it. "I understand that from what you said from yesterday, your timeline still remembers me as looking like ten years old, right?"  
  
I nodded slowly. Zexion's voice was haughty, and the way he carried himself was confident. It would certainly get interesting getting to know him all over again. "I expect that I spoke to you at length yesterday, however I regrettably have no recollection of that conversation."  
  
"You said you wouldn't," Zexion confirmed. "You also mentioned that this is the point where the two timelines meet ends, therefore this is the part where I now fill you in on what has happened in the Organisation. For the most part it remains the same, but naturally things aren't going to be exactly as you remember them."  
  
I didn't know whose idea it was between us, however I appreciated the gesture all the same. How much had changed at the Organisation? "Did you and Demyx manage to stay friends?"  
  
It was the only thing that bothered Zexion, and I wanted to know if that at least had managed to be fulfilled.  
  
Much to my dismay, Zexion pulled a face to say that it was not the case. "Over the past ten years, I occasionally saw my younger self, the one that didn't age. I was in the eye of the storm, much like how you were. Of course I had no idea it was your doing, but when Demyx joined the Organisation, I saw that timeline more frequently than I cared. I felt threatened and I blamed him for my instability. I said a number of things that were out of line, and we had gotten off on the wrong foot. I looked into Demyx's background so I could get the upper hand, but by doing that though, I think he hates me."  
  
I looked away in thought. I had never even considered how Demyx had become a Nobody. He was always so cheerful and full of spirit – how could someone like that submit to the darkness?  
  
"I've been trying to help him, but I fear that it's too late." Zexion laughed softly. "That's the price I have to pay for being selfish."  
  
"It was a gamble you were willing to make nevertheless," I said sternly as I brought my arms onto the stone wall. I looked out at the vast ocean, watching the moonlight wave in its soundless ripples. There really wasn't a view better than this.  
  
Zexion joined me not long after, and although he was still a good few inches shorter than me, I was astounded by how much he had grown. "What else do you want to know?"  
  
There were a lot of things that I wanted to know, most of them about Zexion himself. How did Vexen handle gradually losing his assistant? Now that Zexion was here with me, it was evident that he had explored other worlds like he had hoped and was on the same level as the other members. Although that much was clear, I wanted to know what he thought of each world, his experiences and his stories, but I knew that the clock was ticking.  
  
I then remembered Saix. "Since I have made you age, is it possible that the others around you are being affected as well? Just by being around you?"  
  
Zexion pouted in thought. "I hadn't considered it, but you'll be the best judge of that. As you've effectively time skipped, you will see the difference better than any of us." He turned his head away from me slightly, as though he had found something interesting in that direction. His shoulders were hunched slightly.  
  
I had the feeling he wanted to say something, but was struggling to find the words. I waited patiently for him, however what he said was beyond my wildest imagination.  
  
"I said this to you yesterday, but I'll say it again: I'm sorry I've handicapped you."  
  
I hadn't known this Zexion for long, but I knew that it took a lot for him to swallow his pride like this. He was never one for words, and now that I was hearing those words of guilt after he had begged me to grant his wish only the previous day. I wanted to do what was right for him. We both knew what we were signing up to, and there was no turning back.  
  
"We have to live with the decisions we make," I said nonchalantly. And there was a lot of truth in that, and we more than anyone had to come to terms with it. Aging was a constant process, and every scrap of my attribute ebbed to Zexion. I doubted that I could manipulate time again, or if I wanted to be optimistic, it would take incredible patience and time to hone what residue there was.  
  
I knew by the tone of Zexion's voice that I had told him of my handicap. I didn't want to deny him of his wish, so I went with it knowing the price. Joker would have been sorely disappointed with my naivety.  
  
I was eager to reshuffle the cards, so as to not make Zexion any more uncomfortable. "I hope my poker league's still around," I said airily. "I don't think I could bring myself to teach you all again."  
  
I could almost hear Zexion roll his eyes. "There's rarely an evening when there _isn't_ a game going on." Although he was irritated, his smile was genuine. "I'm winning on it at the moment."  
  
"Is that because you cheat?" I teased. Zexion was top of his game before, and I had never found the time or the inclination to ask him the question. An illusionist could do what he wanted, even change the cards to his favour.  
  
"I play fair," he replied. "I'm not stupid enough to risk cheating and get caught in the process. I have a reputation to upkeep."  
  
I gave a light shrug. "It was a valid question. I'm sure that the notion has crossed everyone else's minds at some point."  
  
Talking to Zexion like this was incredible. I knew that he was going to be completely different to the small boy that slinked in Lexaeus' shadow. I knew that he was going to be much too intelligent for his age, but I didn't expect us to be able to talk to each other so freely.  
  
"Do we talk often?" I asked next.  
  
"We rarely talk like this, if that's what you mean. I confronted you a number of times because of the converging timelines, but you always said it wasn't the right time and avoided me. Of course I realise now why you did that." He gave a devilish sneer. Much like me, he had learnt not to truly smile, but managed to somehow twist it into something entirely different, even if that was not his intention. "You should have seen Saix' reaction when I asked to pair with you today."  
  
By what Saix had said to me this morning, it sounded like it was a nightmare to rearrange everything. I wasn't sure what strings Zexion had pulled in order to accomplish it, but there was another part of me that said I shouldn't know.  
  
I gave a light laugh. "I can imagine. If possible, I'd like us to pair up more often."  
  
"I'd like that too," Zexion replied with a curt nod. "I have a rather large debt I need to settle."


	31. Sundial

"It's already been decided. Now get to work before I make you."  
  
I had to find Marluxia.  
  
I travelled using the portal to his usual haunts. Altar of Naught, his room, everywhere. Even outside Larxene's room, where when I tapped at the door, there was mercifully no response. On those instances where I did finally catch him, he brushed me aside and had no inclination to hear what I had to say.  
  
It took a long time before he finally heard me out.  
  
"Must we do this? I know what you want to say."  
  
I lowered my head slightly. The fact he had stopped in his tracks to the Grey Area was progress enough for me. "This will be the last time." I only needed to voice my concerns once, and I hoped that at least saying it would get him to think.  
  
Marluxia turned round slowly, carelessly flicking some of his hair behind his shoulder as he did so. He gave a resigned sigh. "I'm listening."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
I had to make this one conversation count, and I had to choose my words carefully. Marluxia did not acknowledge me as a friend, but he needed to heed my words. He could feign ignorance as much as he liked, picking and choosing when it suited him to take advantage of our prior relationship, however he needed to understand.  
  
"I felt that I should make my view clear to you before you go ahead with your mission at Castle Oblivion. I speak to you as a friend and an ally – you need to step down."  
  
Marluxia was not impressed. "Then you would also know I can't do that."  
  
"Are you in a position to inform me of why?" I was careful not to raise my voice, in case that only deferred Marluxia from hearing me out altogether. What could be so important that he couldn't take a step back and see the whole picture? Did he know the stakes at all? Nothing made me more frustrated, however just like our banters when we were Somebodies, we had to keep the facts and emotions in check. That was what made our twisted friendship that much more enticing.  
  
Marluxia made the point to consider the question. As I should have expected, he chose to avoid it. He shrugged his shoulders. "I could, but I don't want to. I'm to strip Sora of his memories to make Roxas our archangel. That is the mission and I intend to see it through."  
  
I pondered over his choice of words. Liam had come from a virtuous and religious background, but that was as much as I knew about his past. That part of him still lingered, and most likely Marluxia saw this mission as something equally important, but for what purpose?  
  
"It's rather fortuitous how Larxene will also be there, isn't it?" I said airily, as I set my temper aside and tried to replicate his nonchalance. If Marluxia viewed this serious matter as trivial, I could just as easily play to his rules. "The two of you have another plan in the shadows. I haven't been able to work out the details; however, you should seriously reconsider your prospects. How much good can come out of it and is it worth it?"  
  
I honestly believed in gambler's fallacy, but with Marluxia it was easy to tell that he was rotten to the core. No matter the events, he held more Spades than anyone else in the Organisation. I didn't know what his ulterior motives were, but Marluxia had surely set his sights there and wouldn't deviate from it in the slightest.  
  
There was only so much I could do to save him now, but I had to try. I sighed at the lack of response. I chose to rephrase my question to fill the silence. "Or at the very least, is there any way you could assure me that your own mission won't endanger you any more than the Organisation's mission alone?"  
  
Marluxia thought long and hard about his response. "I can tell you now it won't be dangerous. I merely want to do additional things at the Castle."  
  
I raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "When I informed Saix of your questionability, I have the inkling he made certain to keep us separated. Was that intentional?"  
  
Everything went according to how he wanted it to be. Our separation meant that he had no one holding his leash, and the Superior had extended his full permission for Marluxia to be let loose. He was selfish and had high goals, but it was all out of my hands. To him, he thought the events were all ideal for him, in the same way nearly everyone got involved with gambling in the first place. It didn't necessarily mean that they would return home with any money whatsoever.  
  
Marluxia laughed callously. "You claim to be a friend and an ally – have you considered your actions as persistent?"  
  
I knew then that he had heard enough. I wasn't satisfied, and I had more questions than answers, but this was a game where I had to respectfully fold. I gave a resigned smile. "I apologise. If you consider my words as nothing more than a nuisance, then I have no right to stop you. I would like to reiterate that you should look out for yourself."  
  
Marluxia turned his back to me, eager to take up the opportunity to end our conversation. "I always do," he called back to me haughtily.  
  
I was left with a hollow feeling as Marluxia strutted with his head held high towards the Grey Area. If I had a heart, would I have felt something more as I exchanged last words with the one I considered a friend? The one I had depended on when I lost my way? It was a given that he never trusted me as a Nobody, but as I watched his back, I had the burning impression that there was more to Marluxia that I couldn't possibly comprehend.  
  
He should have known the die was loaded, but he seemed adamant to continue regardless of the odds. Was that righteous or foolish?

* * *

The Castle had grown a lot calmer in the Grey Area since the six members embarked on their way to Castle Oblivion. Saix had grown considerably grouchier than normal when issuing out missions, and the change in atmosphere had affected even Demyx. He spent more time hanging off Xigbar and playing his sitar nice and loud in a half-hearted attempt to get it back to normal.  
  
It wasn't until I asked him that I knew the real reason.  
  
"Larxene's such a witch," Demyx had replied. "When she's around, I can't enjoy myself like I can now."  
  
The one who had changed the most, however, was Roxas. The mysterious Number XIII that the Superior himself had retrieved when he was born as a Nobody. He had grown considerably close to Axel, and now that the redhead was gone, Roxas hardly said a thing. It was just like how I remember Zexion to be.  
  
I remembered him with a pang. With the aging process had come arrogance. After our initial respectable conversation, Zexion opened up considerably. I didn't want to interrupt him as he complained about Vexen's inappropriate behaviour, and it was a rare treat to see that the roles had been reversed (which I had a rather cunning hand in). Instead of waving Lexaeus off as he went on missions, Zexion was often on heartless duty with Number V as a scholar to fuel his need to research. I never saw the look on his face as he explored new worlds, but the thrill was certainly there.  
  
And now that he too was at Castle Oblivion, I didn't know if he too was onto Marluxia. The Cloaked Schemer was not a name that could be overlooked easily.  
  
I took mild interest as the youngest member of the Organisation now took his instructions from Saix without a word, scanning the sheets of paper with a blank look. To him, as the only one able to capture the hearts that the Heartless were abundant in, it was only natural for him to have more work than anyone else.  
  
"It's all rather cruel, considering he's so young," I shared with Xigbar and Xaldin, who were in the Grey Area with me. "If he had waited a few more years, then perhaps it would seem more just."  
  
Xigbar shrugged. "And if he had the ability to refuse, then we'd all be pretty stuffed, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
I personally didn't. Roxas had come to us with no memories of what he was before, and it was ultimately the card that could be played for manipulation. Playing him to get what we want was beyond comprehension, and if we had waited a few more years for him rather than pouncing on him like a pack of predators, then it may be favourable for him to join our cause because he too felt the same way.  
  
It was inhumane to take advantage of him, however the risks if we did wait would certainly have been high.  
  
I didn't like the idea that he was here because he didn't know what else to do with himself. In a way, it reminded me a lot of myself when I was young and green. Forced to be here because it was what he did best, and without an inkling of what lie beyond.  
  
A grunt made me raise my head slightly. "I take your point. Sora isn't experienced as a Keyblade wielder, and there's nothing to say that Roxas is going to be much better. It's a good job that we don't age, or we'd all be old and wrinkly by the time he finishes Kingdom Hearts."  
  
Xaldin always had such a swift tongue that it rivalled that of Saix'. Nevertheless, I failed to see the point he was trying to make.  
  
"The way I see things, he has progressed far over the past few days." I looked across at Roxas, who had now summoned a portal to wherever his next mission took him.  
  
Xigbar got onto his feet. "I'm assuming that's my cue to go. Can't leave him out in Agrabah." With that, he left me with Xaldin and dashed to Roxas' side just before he went through the portal.  
  
"You hear what I mean? Roxas is a burden and has to be watched at all times," Xaldin continued.  
  
I grinned. "Yet it's also because of him that we've got a goal that's within our grasp. Kingdom Hearts can never be complete without the power of the Keyblade." It all depended on the King to do his best for his subjects. And Roxas having the attribute over light – it was all rather planned out, the way I saw it. Coincidences never happened twice.  
  
I cast a backwards glance over the settee just as Roxas disappeared through his portal. He really did remind me a lot of myself. He was burdened with all this responsibility, and he didn't know half of what the higher-ups had in stock for him. I hadn't exchanged a single word with him thus far though, and confronting him now would only scare him.  
  
That wasn't the impression I wanted to give him. As the Superior had explained weeks ago, Roxas was fragile. I couldn't agree to that point more. A sundial without light to shed on it is a sorry sight indeed, however a broken one was even more so.


	32. All the Time in the World

It wasn't long after the Castle Oblivion team was dispatched that Roxas fell into a slumber. I had noticed that he had stopped coming into the Grey Area to report for work, and it took me a fair bit of courage to question Saix about it.  
  
He gave me the reason with little resistance, although there were some other statements that were unnecessarily slotted into the answer.  
  
I made myself comfortable as I sat on the edge of his bed, making sure not to sit on his legs. He didn't stir. Unlike my room, Roxas didn't have the privilege of having his own desk and chair. The bareness only emphasised his position in the Organisation, and it made my stomach sick to know that no one gave him more credit than he deserved. He may be the youngest addition to the Organisation, but treating him like so was uncalled for.  
  
"I wouldn't be surprised if I am your first visitor. I apologise for my tardiness."  
  
With the absence of Axel, I thought it only courteous for me to show him that someone externally thought about him and didn't think visiting would be meaningless. Despite Demyx's demeanour that he cared, I was all too aware that he would think paying a visit to someone sleeping was pointless and an unfruitful exercise.  
  
Now that Roxas was vulnerable, asleep and non-responsive, I wanted to know what exactly made him like this. The fact that Marluxia had his own plans had bothered me the past few days, and I didn't think it coincidence that Roxas had fallen asleep mere days afterwards. The Superior's plan was to pick the flesh off Sora's bones and stick them on Roxas. Once the process was complete, would it be then that Roxas would wake up?  
  
If anything, the whole thing was linked to Marluxia. I simply wanted to know what he was up to.  
  
"It's tough being at the bottom of the food chain, eh?" I laughed to myself as I let my eyes shut. We both had the lowest numbers in the Organisation now, and the fact he held the better hand made it all the more entertaining. With Marluxia and Larxene starting a rebellion between them, I paled in comparison.  
  
I wetted my lips as I opened my eyes again. "I'm sorry that I'm not Axel, but I'll do my best." I looked across at him, and his face hadn't changed in the slightest. He looked so much like my father, so still and the mouth slightly open to let the air in. The dramatic difference was that Roxas was actually breathing – just not responding to the environment around him. He had all the time in the world to take it easy, but his expression told me that that was an understatement. In fact, it was plain to see that the slumber was a merciful way to put a stop to Roxas' growing anxiety.  
  
"I know that you've been worried since he left. Rest assured, he's a strong guy." I had the urge to bring my leg onto the bed like I did on mine, but I refrained from such a disrespectful act. "He wasn't given the title 'Flurry of Dancing Flames' just for show. It would be hard to extinguish his passion without a fight."  
  
I tried to reassure myself as well when saying that, but it didn't do the trick. Fire was easily snuffed out, and Marluxia being known as the Graceful Assassin didn't do anything to make things better. And with the Savage Nymph in the mix, I deeply hoped that there was something left to prove that one side or the other existed. I wasn't aware of a single bit of his plan – what was he aiming to do, and would it involve the others in any way? Marluxia had said his plan wouldn't endanger him, but the same couldn't be said for the others.  
  
Even the specifics of the mission were a complete mystery to me.  
  
At least Roxas wasn't on his toes anymore – he had taken the Castle Oblivion news worse than everyone else combined, and it was a relief that he wouldn't spend the days worrying.  
  
I smiled fondly as I looked across the bed again. "Of course, no one in their right mind would trust a gambler. We haven't had a real chance to talk, but even you know that it is just common knowledge."  
  
I was onto my feet before I knew it. In the same way, my hand had found its way to his head, brushing his fringe away from his eyes. He was so much like me – lost and dead to the world. He was more or less at the right age when I started learning of the casino, leaving the past fifteen years in the dirt and not looking back until it was too late.  
  
Fate was calling to me, that this was a second chance before me.  
  
"I'll look out for you. I don't want you to make the same mistakes as I did – I'll cover those holes until you find your own path," I vowed. "If your heart doesn't say so, then let your mind take you to a brighter future. As your ally, I will stand by whatever decision you come up with."

* * *

I spouted out similar stuff almost every day I visited Roxas. Several of the other members, particularly Xaldin, had noticed my change in schedule. It made my mind at ease when I was with him, as though time itself had slowed down. There was nothing that interrupted us outside as I shared everything that happened in my missions, talked endlessly as I voiced my concerns about Marluxia. If he had awoken at any point, I would have embraced it with open arms.  
  
But no such thing happened. He continued to sleep, and two days stretched twenty. I would have given up hope if my trained eyes hadn't noticed the steady breathing. If he was to pass away in his sleep, I didn't want him to be discovered missing weeks later. Nobodies didn't die per se. They faded, leaving nothing behind to prove their existence.  
  
The way Saix had advised of this unique situation before was that there was little hope for Roxas. I wanted to prove him wrong, that despite the odds, he had the right cards to play with.  
  
True to my word, Roxas eventually stirred awake and was on his feet again. I had to say though, he had seen better days. For someone who had been in a coma with plenty of rest, he was devoid of it. He didn't need to say anything for me to know that he wanted to wake up with Axel by his side. Nevertheless, he was pulling through.  
  
Yet the one who ruined my poker face wasn't Saix for his remarks or Roxas for his miraculous recovery, but Demyx.  
  
"I'm sorry?" I stammered as I turned my head.  
  
Demyx was already further down the corridor, and he stopped skipping to turn his body towards me. He cupped his hand around his mouth like a megaphone, even though the distance between us wasn't bigger than it appeared. "The Castle Oblivion team! All reduced to zilch."  
  
I had to blink to stop myself from repeating the question for the third time. How could they be gone? There were six of them altogether – what sort of mission was it where there were no survivors? "Where did you hear that from?"  
  
Much to my annoyance, Demyx didn't pick up on my serious tone of voice. Instead, he only grinned wider as he brought his arms to his sides. "I pestered X-face until he gave in. Not bad coming from me, eh?" He pointed to himself haughtily. "An Organisation without Larxene is like a dream come true. Got to dash – Xiggy needs to know."  
  
I let him go, for I knew that I for one wasn't happy about the news. I retreated back to the room from whence I came without even saying goodbye to him. Although that was most unlike me, I could afford to make an exception this time round.  
  
Marluxia was dead. _Liam_ was dead. Not only would there never be a chance for me to talk to him again, but as I feared with Roxas during his slumber, the fate of Nobodies was to simply vanish. Not even a corpse to show that our lives had meant something.  
  
None of us could even respect their memory by giving them the appropriate send-off. It was just as bad as hearing the news about Matthew – how he meant something to me, but I was simply too far away to notice or do anything simply because it was too late. It put me at a rather helpless position, whereby the only thing I could do for him and for Marluxia was to apologise.  
  
I let my eyes close as I banged my back against the wall and let myself slide down. I was in the dark of what had happened at Castle Oblivion, and I didn't know who would help me get to the bottom of the matter.  
  
All that I knew was that I played a fundamental part in how Marluxia had met his downfall. Did his plans fail because he had gone out of control, like how he had taken matters in his own hands by killing the one person who stopped me facing my future? Or had he fallen back after considering what I had said, and met his demise that way?  
  
I knew absolutely nothing behind the circumstances. I had thought that time was abundant, but now it was simply gone.


	33. Against the Clock

It was no less than 24 hours that more work was issued out to everyone. Demyx didn't take the news quite as well as the grown-ups or Roxas, who was used to getting heaps of work from Saix every day. It made sense though. Before, we had assumed that the Castle Oblivion team would be returning triumphant of their mission, hence the work up until now was temporary. But now that our Organisation had permanently been hacked in two and essentially cut off, it was only natural for the remaining people to take their work onto their shoulders.  
  
It was fortunate that Saix and the Superior still opted to remain in the castle though, despite the shortage of members. If they hadn't been anticipating their deaths, then they were hardly empathetic. Or perhaps when the team was dispatched, they were fully aware of the consequences that would befall them.  
  
It was a mystery, and I was fast losing confidence in who to trust.  
  
I returned back late. Taking solo missions were strenuous, and I spent more time outside the castle to make sure I produced adequate results. The fate that transpired to the team at Castle Oblivion made me realise something: although Nobodies didn't age and had no noticeable signs of developing weaknesses or illnesses, death was still waiting for us all.  
  
And until the Grim Reaper claimed us himself, we were only on borrowed time to make amends. In order to make the most of it, I had to accomplish however much I could with my remaining life. That was what I had decided – the Organisation was my main priority, then my personal life much, much lower down. I didn't have anything to return to, but the least I could do was assist my colleagues.  
  
Of course, all that talk was easier said than done. It's like seeing the red numbers in the bank account, and vowing to stop splashing money around. The world didn't work like that.  
  
"As the only survivor of Castle Oblivion team, I'll have you explain." I narrowed my eyes as I closed the portal behind me.  
  
Axel shrugged as he lay back down on his bed. "I don't feel like it."  
  
I drew up his chair without waiting for his permission, leaning an arm on the table and crossing one leg over the other. The important thing about disciplining an unruly employee was to remind them who was boss. That mentality had been etched into my head so much that I couldn't help but treat Axel in the same way.  
  
I lifted my head somewhat. "We have plenty of time in our hands. I'm sure you can spare a few words."  
  
He brought his hands behind his head, sighing somewhat. "Luxord, I've just been through the cheese grater with the Superior and Saix. My butt's numb from answering their questions the whole day, and I really don't need it from you too. I mean, what difference does it make? What's it to you?"  
  
"A lot more than you can imagine," I replied coldly. I didn't expect him to understand the history between me and Marluxia, and how the final farewell had affected me so. I had to know – what was he doing at Castle Oblivion and did he succeed? "I don't need a detailed report, just tell me what happened."  
  
The cogs turned on his head as he contemplated what was in it for him. Although he was a mere Number VIII, there was the implication that he looked out for himself more than anyone. "That's the thing, nothing much happened."  
  
He sat up suddenly, bringing his legs towards each other so that they met only by the soles of his shoes. Axel's green eyes shone as they stared directly at me. "We were given an order, and we failed rather miserably. That's it."  
  
"There's more to it," I accused without hesitation. True, I wasn't anyone to him, but I had to make it clear that I would force the answer out if I had to. With Marluxia in the mix, the mission was never going to be straightforward. "What was the order?" I had a vague understanding of what it was, but I wanted to hear it from his perspective.  
  
Axel looked away from me – any man would have interpreted this as anxiety, but I didn't think that was the case. "We were to strip the memories of the Keyblade wielder, so that the power would be sent directly to his Nobody."  
  
"And I take it that had a knock-on effect on Roxas?" I recalled the coma that Roxas had suffered almost for the entire month.  
  
He nodded. "It was unavoidable."  
  
At least a small fraction of me was relieved. But there was also the reason for concern.  
  
"However, Roxas woke up. Saix gave me the impression that he didn't have high hopes for him to return to us." I leaned back on my chair further, sending the front two legs off the floor.  
  
"The stakes were high on this mission, so that's why almost half of the Organisation got involved," Axel continued to explain. "There was the chance that we might lose both of them. Instead, Sora kept battling forwards even as his memories were plucked one by one. It just goes to show how strong a heart is."  
  
I let a smile play on my lips. Marluxia wouldn't die from something as simple as a heart. It wasn't in him to make any miscalculations. "Makes you wonder if you need one."  
  
Axel took the bait of changing the subject, like I planned. Another route to breaking the ice was to take strategic tangents to get to where you want. "The heart certainly is mysterious. But it gives us the confidence raw knowledge can never offer us." He looked pensively outside the window, and it was increasingly harder to figure out what he was thinking. Could he be thinking of Roxas, or was there something more that Axel didn't feel like putting on display?  
  
"Perhaps the heart can grant us only so much," I reasoned. "Zexion and Vexen were the finest in the Organisation regarding brains, yet you're implying that the heart is stronger than them. But what is it – being stronger?"  
  
I had reason to believe I lost Axel there, for he didn't say another word to me.  
  
"To be stronger…What is the point?" I summoned two cards idly, separating them although both were equally blank. "Simply being better doesn't mean anything unless there's something worth utilising that effort for." Perhaps Marluxia had realised the same thing, but failed to find the one thing that would benefit from a heart. If we had lost it before, then we could continue like so – was that what he was thinking?  
  
Axel flashed a grin. "Sora kept saying he made a promise. An unbreakable oath that he made with someone that he would protect them. It's the strength of his heart that sees the end of that promise, even when the memories fall apart around him." He snickered to himself, throwing his head back a little. "It was rather interesting to see the developments."  
  
I placed the cards on the table face-down. "Let's return to the one question that really matters. How come only you survived?"  
  
And once again, he didn't meet my gaze. "The others were too proud. They chose to die rather than run. In the end, although I returned with a rather damaged reputation, it is also because of that that the reports regarding Castle Oblivion are accurate."  
  
Lies, all lies. I knew, for I was rather exceptional in that skill too. It would be disappointing if I couldn't tell at least that much. I flipped over the left card, and smirked at the eight of Spades. Cunning; that was something Axel definitely had. He lacked considerably in the other suits of order and intellect.  
  
What was to say that he was giving me accurate information?  
  
"Would I be correct in thinking that Marluxia and Larxene deviated away from the crowd and were left to their own devices?"  
  
Axel neither agreed nor disagreed with my point, staring out the window as though he longed to be away from me. That was the response I generally got.  
  
The front legs of the chair met the floor again with a bang. "And with them coming up with their grand schemes, where were you in the match? Were you the dealer or the opponent?" I arched my eyebrows, but there was little point if he wasn't even facing my direction.  
  
Nevertheless, that was the concept of being in charge. It was the aura that was emitted that mattered more than the issue at hand or the words that were spoken.  
  
"I don't get you at all," he finally said as he outstretched his legs to lie back down again.  
  
I gave him a knowing smile. "We're working against the clock here. We're making Kingdom Hearts one mission at a time so that we can all be on our way, and doing as much as we can to make sure that we stand a chance. Despite us all being in the same boat, the disruption amongst the numbers is considerable."  
  
Axel sighed, furrowing his eyebrows.  
  
This was mainly for my purposes. There was a valid reason why the Organisation was so much more than it appeared. Every structure had its pitfalls. "Fewer members mean bigger portions of the prize. Having fewer members in a group also means a mutual objective is decided by individuals, not the common consensus of a bigger one. And, in some cases, that idealistic group is enough to break away from the authority figure they claim to follow."  
  
And to prove my point, I turned over the second card to reveal the Ace of Clubs. "The Ace commands all its following numbers, from two through to ten, and the exceptions to its rule are as follows."  
  
I brought my hand towards my face to count the exceptions off, and I could see that Axel's eyes were drifting shut. It was late, but I still needed his assistance. "The Jack, Queen and King. Namely Marluxia, Larxene and Roxas. Their whole existence in our ranks is enough to demand authority over us underdogs." I leaned forwards in my chair, ignoring the loud creak as I did so. "Tell me Axel – did they betray the Organisation and the Superior?"  
  
Axel's mouth twitched. "No."  
  
A liar right to the end. I glanced back at the eight of Spades, fighting back a wry smile. It wasn't by luck I had conjured up that card, but there was certainly a chance.  
  
I got onto my feet and summoned a portal back to my own room. "Thank you, your comments has been most insightful. I'll say goodnight."


	34. Wasting Away

Following the fate that befell the Castle Oblivion team, Xemnas ensured that our next meeting was different. As we all piled into the round room, no one could have predicted what he had in store.  
  
As Demyx, quite predictably the last of the Nobodies, took his seat and got comfortable, Xemnas was the one to speak first. That in itself was unusual, as like when I was the casino owner, it was always the aide who always opened the meeting.  
  
"Our recent blow at Castle Oblivion has affected some more than others. We have regrettably lost a considerable proportion of our loyal members, just as Kingdom Hearts is starting to manifest. We cannot afford any slip-ups until its completion."  
  
Xemnas raised a hand leisurely. No sooner had he done, there was a swirl to his right where Xigbar was sat. All heads turned in his general direction, and Xigbar himself leaned back so everyone had a good view. Judging by his relaxed shoulders, it was clear Xigbar had been informed before the meeting.  
  
The creature that appeared was nothing I had ever seen. Unlike the Dusks, this creature looked more fearsome and armed with a dangerous device. A sharpshooter, to be exact, like the Nobody it was beside.  
  
I knew what this meant, but Xemnas explained it to us all anyway. "To make sure our mission is complete, I will be issuing each of you a set class of Emblem Nobodies to command. Needless to say, they have been created for the purpose of making up the lost numbers. Use them as you see fit, but remember the numbers aren't infinite."  
  
Xigbar, like everyone else, was temporarily stunned. Not only had the Superior essentially given us a gift, but he had openly admitted each of us were just as replaceable. However, like those of us who had picked up on this small detail, Xigbar didn't mention the fact out loud.  
  
He laughed heartily. "This isn't a bad idea."  
  
A few others around me nodded in agreement, and Xemnas barely moved a muscle to register the approval. "Number II's underlings will be referred to as Snipers."  
  
The Sniper beside Xigbar raised its head slightly.  
  
"Number III's will be known as Dragoons." In a similar fashion, another Nobody appeared beside Xaldin this time, but he had been expecting it. Its design was close to the Sniper in the abstract sense, but it was armed with a lance like its owner. Xaldin grunted a response, neither pleased nor displeased about it.  
  
Like a master of creation, Xemnas was making Nobodies for each of us in our image - whether to draw out our full potential or to mock us, both were equally as likely. Was the Superior trying to give each of his followers a certain level of control, so they wouldn't betray him like Marluxia, or was there something more sinister behind his tribute?  
  
"Number VII, the Berserker."  
  
Most took interest in the green monster that had appeared by Saix - a fearsome giant with splendid forearms and legs that looked like it could tear down the room. Saix's weapon and attribute were still a mystery to us all (ergo he had consequently become known as the Enigmatic Diviner). Incidentally, for a lot of us, witnessing this beast was the closest thing we could interpret Saix as.  
  
Number VIII received the Assassins. It was the sort of creature and name that I would have associated more with Marluxia, but Axel didn't seem to notice the resemblance.  
  
Demyx' designated subordinates were...interesting. Everyone else's had been twisted interpretations, a spitting image of their counterpart, but Demyx' was a far cry from anything intimidating. He giggled as the Dancer looped around his head, in such good spirits he had thanked 'Xemmy' for it as if it was an early birthday present.  
  
And then it was my turn. I had half expected my one to be just as obscure as Demyx' or as inaccurate as Axel's, but my one was undoubtedly impeccable.  
  
I laughed hard, and Roxas a couple of seats away jumped slightly. Much like Demyx', it was certainly vibrant, with pointed feet and sleeves as long as mine. It tossed a few dice in the air and its cross-shaped head tilted somewhat as he tried to figure me out. It was certainly a spitting image of me.  
  
Rather unimaginatively, Xemnas had dubbed my Nobody subdivision as the Gamblers. To an extent, that was all I seemed to be to him. The Superior only scratched the surface of what I was, taking me for what I prided myself to be. Being a gambler by nature was in my blood and I embraced that, together with the shrewdness and intellect that came with being on top of the game.  
  
It was in my moment of good spirits that I saw it at the corner of my eye. Whilst everyone had been taking an interest in each new subordinate, Saix hadn't been paying a single bit of attention. He was still in two minds of his own Berseker, which completely dominated one side of his seat. The Nobody towered him, almost protectively, and Saix leaned back in his seat to disappear into its shadow.  
  
And in that moment, as I saw Saix sneak a look at his Nobody, his first signs of melancholy seeped through in that distant smile.

* * *

Although Axel had, at first, associated mentoring Roxas as babysitting and a punishment, the two had inevitably got to know each other and enjoyed each other's company. Ever since Axel had returned from Castle Oblivion, Roxas was in particularly better form and the two oftentimes returned back from missions late together, despite them being on separate missions in the first place.  
  
No longer were ice creams handed to Saix for the sake of it, no longer did Axel drape an arm over Saix' shoulders out of boredom. Their close relationship from the inception of Organisation XIII had dissipated before my eyes, and it was a shame to see it come to this after everything they had been through (details of which Axel still held close to his chest).  
  
Ever since our missions had become increasingly more difficult and arduous, everyone wanted nothing more than to turn in for the night when they returned. A few too many times, I had also slipped into that routine. When time allowed it though, I stuck my head in the Grey Area each evening, just in case anyone did want a quick game of cards.  
  
"Saix, it's unusual for you to be here."  
  
Saix looked up slowly from his paperwork as I joined him on the sofa. By unusual, I really should have said never. Saix kept himself to himself, choosing not to bring his work out with him unless it was absolutely necessary.  
  
I was mildly interested in what Saix was working on, and I was half-expecting him to shield it from me, but from the sheer volume I had a vague idea what it was. "Are you picking up from where Vexen has left off?" Much like how missions had to be picked up, the research of Vexen and Zexion had to resume. No one was remotely close to their level of scientific intelligence, but it seemed that the work of deciphering their notes had fallen to Saix.  
  
Saix furrowed his eyebrows a little. "Someone has to."  
  
"I admire your dedication," I replied swiftly. "Make sure you don't overwork yourself though. You need to take a break and forget about it from time to time."  
  
I could see that Saix' eyes were drifting and hardly focused on what the research said. It still bothered me how Saix had behaved at the meeting and how he had sought refuge in his Nobody's protective shadow. Number VII had been thinking of many things, thinking of himself for once, and as Axel drifted further and further away from him, there was no one left for him to confide in.  
  
I wanted to ease his burden, even a little.  
  
"Have you had the chance to see other worlds?" As Saix' attribute and weapon were unknown, it was common knowledge that it was deemed too dangerous for him to venture to other worlds. That was the sole reason why he stayed in the castle and issued instructions. I knew that it would probably, in all honesty, be against the Superior's rules, however there was no harm in trying.  
  
Where Zexion's eyes had lit up before I made him age, Saix remained as deadpan as ever.  
  
Even without words, that was enough to confirm what I had thought. I got to my feet and created a portal. I expected that if Saix could create dark corridors, he didn't know where to make it go. "Let me show you. Leave all this behind for five minutes."  
  
In his own time, Saix did as I told him. He tidied the papers into a neat pile, crisscrossing them into an order that made sense only to him. He followed me through the portal in silence, and I couldn't tell if he had followed out of curiosity or because he knew how adamant I was.  
  
We both stepped out onto Spiral Hill, and I inwardly smirked as Saix's eyebrows shot up at the sight of it. It was an interesting piece of land, and one which I thought would take his interest. Although Saix had originally come from Radiant Garden like so many of the other members, I didn't want to force Saix too much out of his comfort zone from the get-go. Halloween Town was the only place that sprung to mind where it was constantly night time, like The World That Never Was.  
  
He took in the surroundings, letting his gaze fall on each object in turn. Halloween Town was rather eccentric in its own right, but it was a far cry from anything Saix could imagine.  
  
Saix finally pointed to the sky. "What is that?"  
  
I looked up. "That's the moon. Did Radiant Garden have one?" Almost as soon as I asked the question, I knew Saix would shake his head. "When the day is over, the moon is a natural light that ensures that no one is left in the dark. If we took away the lights in The World That Never Was, we would be in the perpetual darkness."  
  
"It's beautiful," Saix mused, and in those two words I knew Saix meant them. He looked in better health than ever, and although his eyes were still glossed over, he was completely transfixed by the moon. It was strange how the light that fell on him almost seemed to make his shoulders relax.  
  
I could tell that Saix, despite his initial hesitance, wanted nothing more than to stay here. I took a few steps away to lean against a tombstone.  
  
Saix was unbelievably content, and the worry lines around his forehead faded one by one. It only went to show that a bit of outdoors air did him some good. He was wasting away in the castle, and he didn't have a clue.  
  
"You and Marluxia…were you close?"  
  
I didn't answer immediately. "Our relationship was complicated, to say the least. He was certainly the closest friend that I had." I crossed one leg over the other at the ankle. Marluxia's death had been a shock to me, and a part of me still desired answers about what befell him. "I still stand by what I said. If you had allowed me to go to Castle Oblivion, perhaps this could have been averted."  
  
Saix turned his head a fraction. "I did you a favour."  
  
"A favour?" I repeated, and the tone was more incredulous than I had expected. I knew that he had split us up on purpose, but by using the word 'favour', it implied the Enigmatic Diviner had some foresight of the events that was to happen. Was there a chance that he knew that the team sent to Castle Oblivion would fail? That couldn't be right, surely? Perhaps Marluxia really did find dirt on the Superior, and the mission was a grand stage to dispose of him. Everything about Liam was smoke and mirrors, even after death.  
  
"I'm sorry for your loss," Saix chose to reply. "I think that's the phrase when you lose someone important."  
  
I would have preferred it if he hadn't said it at all. Words without a shred of emotion, not even feigned emotion, meant nothing to me. "Did you want Axel to return?" The conversation we were having was coming off at tangents, but I was slowly starting to understand just what the mission was all about. Saix and the Superior had been in on it from the start. Had Marluxia set out on the mission knowing this, or did he incorrectly think he was ahead of the game?  
  
Saix sighed. "I was apathetic either way." He turned his attention back to the moon, and his expression softened in an instant. "Do you mind if you could leave me for a few minutes to collect my thoughts?"  
  
I shrugged. "Of course. Let me know when you're ready."  
  
Saix didn't hesitate to sit at the top of Spiral Hill to do just that. He sat there for a good while, taking in the moonlight and letting his legs dangle over the edge.  
  
He was a black silhouette against the large orb of yellow light. He was shunned by the Organisation and by his friend, only able to look up and wonder what he had done wrong. I sincerely hoped that he would rise above the challenges he had faced.


	35. The Very Beginning

Saix had been in an odd mood since I showed him the moon in Halloween Town. I didn't see him hanging around the Grey Area again after hours, and on one occasion I saw him idly doodling on his clipboard whilst waiting for people to report for their daily mission. For reasons unknown, it seemed that the moon had affected him more strongly than I had originally anticipated.  
  
When Xemnas had, only a few days later, explained about Kingdom Hearts that had now started to take shape, Saix gradually became lost to us. It was only as he revered in Kingdom Hearts that I realised that up until then, he been skulking off to Halloween Town to do just that. From the moment Kingdom Hearts shed its first light, Saix no longer had a reason to venture outdoors.  
  
In a way, it was excruciating for Saix. And one day, the usually collected Enigmatic Diviner snapped.  
  
"Day off?" I repeated as I approached Xaldin, who had taken up Saix's customary space that morning. Saix himself was nowhere in sight, which was a first as he always made it his business to be the first one awake.  
  
"Take a look yourself." Xaldin tore the note from the window and shoved it rather forcefully into my hands.  
  
I cast an eye over the notice that Saix had put up. "'Operations closed for vacation'. It certainly sounds unlike him," I commented. "It's unusual for the Organisation to have a day off, considering there's so much to do. Do you think the Superior authorised it?" I made to stick the notice back on the window again for the other members to see, but by doing that I also saw my answer. There was a small crack in the glass, as though Saix had slapped the note on with as much force as Xaldin did.  
  
"I can tell you that I've never had a day off, not even when we were working under him at Radiant Garden." Xaldin folded his arms.  
  
Even though I didn't know most of my employees when I took over the Silver Lynx, I had at least entitled them to shifts and days off. Joker was an exception, and even when she was sick she still made every effort to fulfil her duty.  
  
Perhaps not having to work for the day wasn't such a bad idea.  
  
"If it's not too much trouble, would you mind taking me to Radiant Garden?"  
  
Xaldin grunted in disapproval. "You really aren't missing out on much. Why do you want to go?"  
  
There were ultimately two reasons. I wanted to see how and where the Organisation had started, and, much like how the Organisation had wanted to know how I became a Nobody, I wanted to know how the founders had set off on their chosen path. What had spurred them on, where the Organisation's only purpose was to claim back what they had lost? Their research and thirst for knowledge had gone too far, but had they considered they would one day turn into Nobodies?  
  
The other reason, which I was inclined not to share with Xaldin, was that I wanted to know Liam better. It was a brief conversation we had all those years ago, but there was only one thing I learnt about Liam's life during Radiant Garden: he was the son of a priest. I wanted to understand him, walk the streets he did and feel the same breeze. Only then could a traitor's memory truly be honoured.  
  
I shrugged lightly. "I want to see where it all started. I understand it's a lot to ask for." I was hopeful that Xaldin would provide me with an account of the events around life before the Organisation. He was direct, and I was certain that anything he evoked would be facts and sound opinions.  
  
Xaldin rolled his eyes once again in disgruntlement, but he summoned a portal all the same. "Whatever. It's not like I've got plans."  
  
I quirked an eyebrow as I tried to work out if he was being sarcastic or not. I followed after Xaldin through the portal, and even before I got to the end of the corridor, I could feel the warmth hit me straight in the face.  
  
Radiant Garden, despite its name, was hardly vibrant or alive. As I set foot into that world, I realised that the heat wasn't of sunlight, but of close-quartered buildings and trapped air. Chatter could be heard in the distance, and the buildings themselves were almost put together haphazardly. Some were boarded up with planks of wood in the weaker areas, whilst others were incomplete structures of stone and concrete.  
  
Xaldin, to my surprise, was just as bewildered I was. "They're trying to restore it."  
  
"When was the last time you came here?"  
  
I really should have known the answer. Xaldin was the sort of man who was quick to discard anything that weighed him down. Radiant Garden was apparently one of those things. "Ten years ago, when I became a Nobody. We destroyed everything here, and the residents had no choice but to leave. Anyone left behind either fell into the darkness or died. The only ones who should know about this place are those who left and us." He folded his large arms across his chest. "I would have thought they'd regard this place as cursed. Why are they here?"  
  
"Perhaps they're working towards removing that stigma," I reasoned. If the residents were anything like the Organisation's founders or Liam, they would see restoration as a goal, and they wouldn't sleep until that mission was fulfilled. "Or maybe the gaming rules of other worlds didn't suit them, and it was always their intention to return."  
  
Xaldin wrinkled his nose, as if the very notion I was having was a bad smell. He didn't need me to impart any more thoughts, but I did anyway. I rubbed the back of my neck in thought. "What's the phrase now? There's no place like home."  
  
"Stop it before I retch." Xaldin set his sights high before apparently finding our destination. "If you want to see where it started, I suggest you follow me and keep your disgusting thoughts to yourself."  
  
He made a point of storming off, and I laughed silently at the sight. Xaldin, much like his element, was fierce in everything he did. Everything except poker, it seemed. Xaldin generally made a special effort in recreation to keep his head straight. He was a gracious loser, but he certainly didn't make the other members forget if he came out the victor.  
  
I was about to follow him, but something caught the corner of my eye. Much like a child who didn't know whether to speak up or not, there was a strange orb on the floor that flickered and buzzed. It drifted along the floor, curious about me but didn't want to approach. It merely zigzagged, occasionally creating a small pillar of light when it kept still.  
  
Apparently Xaldin noticed it as well, for he summoned a lance without so much as raising an arm.  
  
"Wait," I called out to him. The last thing we should do was retaliate. I had no idea what this peculiar object was, but if it was like any other opponent, I was certain that it would fold and retire from the game. I didn't know if the object had intelligence, but I wanted to try it out.  
  
The pair of us didn't move and just watched the ball whizz along the floor. Much to my relief, it chose to leave us alone and disappeared into the ground. We exchanged looks, and in that moment, we both silently agreed we had absolutely no idea what the encounter was all about.  
  
Xaldin was intent to continue the journey to a certain place with his lance out, but after a bit of persuasion, I convinced him that it was hardly necessary. Save for that, our walk was quiet and I used that time to take in the sights. Although the residents were trying to repair the town, there were a few remnants of what the town was like before. The streets were old, and if I looked closely enough, there were patches of blood that refused to come off the surfaces. There were small flower holders built into the walls, and each one had a few tuffs of greenery in it. No doubt, when they were in full bloom all those years ago, each holder had their own unique array of colours and flowers.  
  
The destination Xaldin had in mind was a castle set towards the back of the town. I had seen the disfigured roof between the buildings as we walked, but I hadn't realised it was a building in its own right. It was a bizarre structure, and I was struggling to see the structure at all. The only real defining feature I could see was two large pillars set at the centre, surrounded by a tangle of metal. A tower set behind the pillars was the only thing that looked intact. The right side was heavily supporting a cumbersome golden tower, which I wasn't certain was ever meant to be part of the same building.  
  
I didn't know what I was looking at, but Xaldin didn't let me wait for long. "This used to be our headquarters. Someone's gone and defiled it since."  
  
I gave a small nod. It was hard to imagine what it might have looked like before, but having a large structure like this in the centre of Radiant Garden must have been spectacular. "Was this a facility purely for research?"  
  
"No, we served under the king here," Xaldin clarified. "He ultimately set us on the path of research, but over time he came to realise how dangerous it was. He forbade us from continuing our research, but…Xemnas more than anyone didn't concede. Before long, we all got dragged in one way or another."  
  
Xaldin had used an interesting choice of words. They hadn't always followed the Superior, and for the sake of risky research, their loyalty had been put to the test. No doubt Vexen leapt at the opportunity, but each of the other founders had their own story to share. "Did you agree to it?"  
  
"Lexaeus and I were on the side-lines. We didn't contribute to the science at all; rather we were the sentries of this fortress. It didn't really matter whether we agreed to it or not." Xaldin's purple eyes finally tore away from the castle to look at me. "Even then, Lexaeus' ultimate weakness was Zexion. It didn't take much for Lexaeus to side with him."  
  
I arched an eyebrow. "I'm taking it he chose Zexion over you," I deliberated, and I could tell by the dangerous flash in Xaldin's eyes I was right.  
  
"Zexion was a devious brat," Xaldin said airily. "I never understood what Lexaeus saw in him, but it was his choice. All I did was made sure that none of the citizens knew what was happening – that was what I told myself."  
  
He exhaled sharply, and I knew that he was recalling the worst of his memories. Xaldin was far from vulnerable, but it wouldn't be long before he got tired of sharing. I had to deal the cards out one at a time to make sure he didn't retire from the game before it got started. "What were you all trying to hide?"  
  
Xaldin looked away slightly. "We undertook research into the heart, but we couldn't do it with just ourselves and theories. In other words, we used test subjects. At first we used willing employees, but after a while, the exposure to darkness was too much for them. They would return home different to how they left, and the citizens started to get suspicious." Xaldin struggled for a few moments, but I was careful not to show any signs of impatience. "We then decided to detain those workers for the wellbeing of the town, experimenting on them around the clock. All but one never went home again."  
  
I had no idea what the experiments entailed, but prolonged exposure to darkness could not lead to anything good. Although we, as Nobodies, were embodiments of darkness, I still remembered how uneasy I had felt walking through the dark corridor en route to the World That Never Was when I first enlisted with the Organisation. I only had the remnants of emotions, but there was still a sick feeling in my stomach as the darkness tested the waters, drawing out the painful and horrible memories it could.  
  
To undertake such research on ordinary people was inhumane.  
  
"You didn't do any of the research yourself though," I said slowly.  
  
Xaldin shrugged. "I knew it was all happening behind closed doors. That in itself is a sin. I could have just as easily abandoned my post, or told the king about it, but I didn't. I was a coward and the only thing I could do was let Vincent go."  
  
I gave a grim smile. "The one who went home? You certainly had a shred of decency to spare him of his fate." I looked up at the castle again through a different lens. How had the citizens viewed that place? "Did your colleagues find out?"  
  
"No, they never knew it was me," he confirmed as he furrowed his bushy eyebrows slightly. "I'm not even sure why I'm sharing all this with you, to be honest."  
  
I laughed. It was rare to see Xaldin talk so freely, and it seemed that he hadn't done so in a long time. His closest friend had been Lexaeus, but since Zexion came their friendship had become unstable. "Everything about today will remain between us," I reassured him.  
  
Xaldin nodded curtly, and by the small pull at the corner of his mouth I knew he appreciated the comment. "Vincent was the most resilient of the test subjects and arguably the best. When the other members found out he had gone, they looked for him all over the town. None of the townsfolk gave him up though in the end, and we all had our ears to the ground in case anything happened. Vincent was the only reason why I'm in the Organisation."  
  
There was a small pause, but I didn't push the conversation along.  
  
"We ruined the man's life," Xaldin continued. "He had been exposed to the darkness for too long, and one day without fail, he will break and follow the same fate as the other subjects. Someone like him will easily become a Nobody, and when that happens, I want to be in a position where I can give him his life back."  
  
"That's an admirable goal to strive towards," I complimented as I lowered my head to him slightly. "Although we have lost our hearts, you carry an incredible burden of guilt and you're able to see beyond the end game."  
  
My respect for Xaldin had grown tremendously, but I knew that he wouldn't appreciate such a comment. If only the other members of the Organisation were as honest.


	36. No Time Like the Present

I was slowly but surely beginning to understand what Marluxia had left behind. By picking up the fragments of memories he had strategically left behind, I could almost build a complete picture of what he was going through in his final moments. It was shocking how much I couldn't remember a great deal of my last conversation with Marluxia. I couldn't recall what I said or how I had said them, but the one thing that did stick was how carefree he was.  
  
Marluxia had avoided my question about whether our separation was intentional. He had dodged a lot of the questions, but that was the one that killed our final conversation. Ultimately, Marluxia made every effort to make sure I didn't go with him, so that I wouldn't follow him to his airy grave. That much was certain.  
  
Marluxia saw so much wrong with the world. In his eyes, everything was in chaos. He saw it as his duty to amend things, even if there was nothing to fix. He tampered with matters beyond his control with no thought of the consequences he would cause. All those efforts were merely a diversion from boredom.  
  
He also knew, in his own twisted way, exactly what he was doing. I only wished he had the decency to tell me what I had to do. He had tasked me to pick up from where he left off, but I had no idea where to begin.  
  
I sighed as I settled down on the floor of my newfound sanctuary. Havoc's Divide, unlike anywhere in the castle, did not have a view of the city below. It was an alcove from within the castle itself, surrounded by the walls and roofs of the rest of the castle. The architecture really was splendid when one looked it from the outside, with its tall spires and towers.  
  
What was more appealing was that, although I was sat on the floor, it sloped in such a way that I could almost trick myself into thinking I was on a roof.  
  
Kingdom Hearts grew larger and brighter by the day, and it was a miracle that a world of perpetual darkness finally had some light. I admired the handiwork that Roxas had singlehandedly done for the Organisation. Our weapons were unable to contain hearts, and Roxas had accomplished more in a few months than anyone had done in years.  
  
Everything was going according to what the Superior wanted, but was this scenario the very thing Marluxia was trying to avoid? Was Kingdom Hearts a sign of our salvation or our destruction? If Marluxia hadn't been so cryptic, perhaps I would have had some understanding of what he was trying to prevent.  
  
"So this is where you hang out."  
  
I jumped slightly, and Xigbar's booming laugh tore across Havoc's Divide. "Is there any reason why you were looking for me?" I asked in annoyance as I turned my head to face him.  
  
Xigbar, much like the other Organisation members, had looked considerably older once I made time move for Zexion. His streaks of white hair were a good indicator, but his age lines around his face and neck were the things that gave it away.  
  
Much to my dismay, Xigbar hardly looked bothered. "Not particularly. Just felt like a walk, and I stumbled across here." After the events at Castle Oblivion, I only saw any of the other members after missions. I was an early riser, and no one else was usually awake save for me and Saix. Xigbar was no exception, and it was a pleasant surprise to know he hadn't turned in for the night.  
  
I raised a hand as a gesture to say that I appreciated the company, and Xigbar complied. He settled down quickly, and noticed instantly Kingdom Hearts right there before him. "It's a nice retreat you've chosen."  
  
I brought one knee to my chin, keeping my other leg stretched out before me. "Thank you."  
  
Xigbar tilted his head towards me. "Kingdom Hearts is finally starting to take shape. Are you starting to feel like your old self?"  
  
"Should I?" I countered as I cast a fleeting glance at my friend. "It's an embodiment of hearts and emotions, but none of them are truly mine. It is a remarkable sight though." More than anything, I had become accustomed to what I had become. Even though I didn't have a heart, I had joined the Organisation out of sheer curiosity. That was my driving force. Everyone else in the Organisation had their own end games too, Xigbar included. "What about you?" I inquired.  
  
He rubbed at his eyebrow, but it wasn't out of tiredness. "The way I see it, it doesn't get more real than this. Everything we're working towards is within our grasp, and it's only a matter of time before we claim it for ourselves." The Nobody leaned forwards very slightly. "Although, as you put it, your heart isn't really there, don’t you feel even slightly elated by being around so many?"  
  
I furrowed my eyebrows as I tried to formulate an answer that didn't involve repeating myself. There was an abundance of hearts there in the sky, but it didn't stir anything within me. "I merely believe that it's too early to celebrate."  
  
"Yeah, I see your point there," Xigbar mused. "Anything can happen between now and completion."  
  
I nearly made a remark that I was sure to regret. I cleared my throat to better disguise my original intention of mentioning Castle Oblivion.  
  
Xigbar's gaze slowly dropped from Kingdom Hearts to me. I kept my expression as neutral as possible. I certainly didn't feel anything like what Xigbar did, but maybe the moon's effect varied from Nobody to Nobody. It was an entity of raw emotion and desires, and it was interpreted in a slightly different way, much like how one could interpret a bluff where there wasn't.  
  
I had to say, in all the years I had known Xigbar, I didn't like the way he was looking at me. He was trying to get under my skin and, in that one visible eye, I knew that he was trying to see me for who I was. It seemed like I was looking into Kingdom Hearts itself, a vivid shade of amber with a ring of orange around the pupil. Much like when an opponent throws in all his chips to match his bet, Xigbar had a look on his face to suggest he was trying his best to hide his enthusiasm.  
  
I had played against a number of exceptionally challenging opponents. Xigbar was not one of them, but he wanted to think he was. In a way, that made him a formidable player.  
  
It wasn't long until I had to tear my eyes away from his. It was certainly a sign of weakness, I was fully aware of that, yet there was something uncanny about how Xigbar was behaving. I willed a pack of card in one hand and started to idly shuffle them. If I wanted to break Xigbar, I needed him to play by my rules. "Fancy a game? Just like old times."  
  
I started dishing out the cards before he could refuse. I wasn't paying attention to what the cards were holding. I tossed them into our separate hands, rather carelessly for my standards, and I came to realise that it really didn't matter who won. It had been a long time since I felt the need to defend myself. I had to compose myself, and a friendly game was the most effective way I could do that.  
  
Xigbar gave a dry laugh as he picked up his cards. "You don't have a reason to fix the cards this time, do you?"  
  
"Indeed. If you'd like to make a wager, you can be sure that the cards are in neither of our favour." I waited until Xigbar had looked at his own cards before I snuck a look at mine. "When do you think Kingdom Hearts will be completed?"  
  
"When the Superior says it is," Xigbar said dismissively. He fingered the top of one card idly, debating whether to discard it or not.  
  
I laughed softly. "Who was jumping the gun earlier and saying it's nearly finished?"  
  
In that instant, I knew I had said something wrong. In the past, we would have bantered over a beer and accused each other of multiple things. Although he faced frustration and repetition each and every day he tried to convince me to join the Organisation, he didn't let that stop him from having a good time doing so.  
  
Xigbar, however, was not impressed with my comment.  
  
I couldn't help but wave my free hand dismissively. "If I've touched a nerve, I apologise."  
  
My apology went amiss as Xigbar chose to discard his card and pick up another moodily. It apparently wasn't what he was hoping, for he rearranged himself to be more comfortable in an attempt to disguise his disappointment. Clearly he too wasn't trying overly hard to win the game as well.  
  
"I can only assume that I will only feel as you do further down the line."  
  
I wasn't expecting Xigbar to reply. There was something about his attitude that didn't ring true to me. He certainly had an agenda in mind, and I had a gut feeling that it wasn't his first. The only thing I could put him down for was that he was trying to evaluate me. Maybe, through a series of one-to-one interviews like this, he was deducing who was resonating with Kingdom Hearts and who wasn't.  
  
Truth to be told though, I didn't want to accept its divine blessing. Until I knew whether Kingdom Hearts was the sign of our salvation or demise, I wanted no part in it.  
  
Xigbar made a noise of affirmation. "Maybe. It can be a bit scary going through the transition, but remember that it's nothing to be worried about. Kingdom Hearts is powerful, and soon you'll come to realise there's no going back. Once you're there though…" Xigbar paused dramatically as he ran a hand through his hair. "Well, let's say that you'll feel like you could conquer anything."  
  
There was something about the delivery of his words that twisted its reassuring meaning into something else entirely. The time to claim back our hearts were nigh, yet I couldn't see the appeal. I had always been an observer, the dealer of a long-drawn game. It didn't matter to me who turned out the victor. I was in it for the entertainment.  
  
I didn't say anything until I changed my entire hand of cards. Kingdom Hearts came with a different set of rules that the Superior was letting on – was that what Marluxia had discovered? My eyes locked with Xigbar's. I wanted to see every aspect of his reaction in order to prove one point. "Were the casualties at Castle Oblivion worth it?"  
  
Xigbar gave a toothy grin, and I could tell he was doing his very best to feign composure. The fact I took him by surprise spoke incredible volumes. "I didn't pin you as the type to dwell on the past. Castle Oblivion happened months ago."  
  
I returned his smile, partly to annoy him. "One can't fully appreciate the present without first understanding the past. Had you forgotten so quickly that our success is built upon their sacrifice?"  
  
My comment must have cheered Xigbar up considerably, for he shook his head in mild disbelief. "You're an odd one, aren't you? It's exactly those thoughts that should ring true with Kingdom Hearts. What if I told you that those at Castle Oblivion didn't matter – would that make you angry?"  
  
There was no way for me to know for certain, but I had the impression that Xigbar was trying to back me into a corner. Saix had mentioned before that he was doing me a favour by not sending me to Castle Oblivion. By extension, it seemed that the team were always meant to fail. Xigbar's remark wasn't so outlandish, but why was it so important to him for me to react? What was he trying to accomplish?  
  
"No. I'd say that if that's the will of the Superior, then that's that."  
  
Xigbar's eyebrow twitched slightly as he revealed his hand of one pair. "You're loyal to Xemnas, and yet you show no interest in Kingdom Hearts. I do look forward to when you fully mature."  
  
I was tempted to detract the conversation by revealing my hand, but I decided to simply make the cards disappear without concluding the game. Xigbar blinked a few times as it disappeared before his very eyes. "The Organisation required my assistance, and I gladly obliged. I am not required to yearn for the same objective, and I have reason to believe that it was for this reason the Castle Oblivion team was disposed. As long as I do my bit to help my comrades, that is more than enough for me."  
  
That was the only satisfaction I needed. If the Superior really was as corrupt as Marluxia made him out to be, I wanted to be in a position to protect my comrades. Until such a time that I worked out how to protect them, I had no idea what cards to hide up my sleeve.


	37. Pendulum

If Roxas considered Axel a mentor, then there was little I could do to prove him otherwise. He thought the world of Number VIII, and I didn't want to disrupt the friendship that they had. It was spectacular how quickly they had bonded...and how quickly the bond between Axel and Saix had been severed. I could only hope that Axel had made a good gamble. All I had to do was wait for the opportunity for me to make my move on their exact status.  
  
Much like in chess, Roxas was the King. He was the only one that kept the game going, and his subjects had to protect him as much as they could to guarantee his safety. It was a rather simple concept, however that only really applied so long as the pieces knew their role. Those who went further than the job description were swiftly cut down, rendering the King's defence useless.  
  
Namely, the Castle Oblivion team.  
  
Despite equality, I only got paired up with Roxas on a mission almost six months after he joined. It was a long wait, but it was an inevitable sign that I could now see what the others had moulded him into. I had no part in his development, and it interested me incredibly in what he had become.  
  
For I, despite appearances and my past, didn't want to force him the way others had.  
  
"So, we're here hunting specific game today, hmm?" It was difficult as I had been kept out of the loop for some time, and it was even more difficult to start an engaging conversation with Roxas. I had only exchanged a few words with him, but with a full-blown mission, it was a chance for us to get along and know each other with more than names to go by.  
  
Roxas took a few moments to stammer a reply.  
  
I arched an eyebrow. "What's wrong? First time here?" I had been to Wonderland on several occasions before, but I didn't think it any grander than the other worlds. The large cards put my own in perspective, and were very amusing when I first saw them. Not knowing what Roxas had done up until now put me at a major disadvantage.  
  
He looked straight ahead. "No, I was here on a mission a little while ago. And I ran into this white rabbit in a huge hurry to get somewhere."  
  
I wouldn't say I had been here a few times, but something didn't add up. "A rabbit? Really?" From what I saw of the place, there was only a monarchy and some rather enormous flowers to symbolise any sort of life other than the Heartless. Perhaps there were a few creatures that revealed themselves around Number XIII.  
  
"I lost sight of him before I had chance to see what the deal was, though," he replied, as though he didn't want me to press him for details.  
  
Was that how the other members had treated him? That even though he was younger and mentally less capable, they emphasised the difference between them by talking down at him? It seemed plausible for a number of the remaining Organisation members, and it was only natural for Roxas to find refuge with Axel more than anyone else.  
  
For on the exterior, Axel was one of the most amicable players. However, in my experience, they were also on most occasions the one to look out for.  
  
I couldn't afford someone who doesn't know the rules of poker out my sight. Not only would he stall the game, but it made him an easy target. One who would lose his chips before he knew what was happening, and that was a dangerous place to be.  
  
I vaguely recalled my initial steps of being casino owner to be very similar. Perhaps that was why I was obliged to help Roxas however I can. Back when I was fifteen, learning the ways of the businessman, it was only a matter of years before I realised my mistake. Naturally, the day of my twenty-first birthday when I was officially fit to be the heir of the casino. I had taken the chances, but there wasn't anything to say that it was the right option at the time.  
  
With the game before me for the second time, it was a game where a gentleman couldn't lose twice. Perhaps it was unfair of me to use Roxas as my second chance, regardless I considered the rules and had learnt the objective off by heart.  
  
I let him go at his own pace, letting him taking the lead in what he thought was right. I deliberated hints when he felt particularly lost, covered his back when the Heartless made their grand appearance.  
  
But more importantly, I didn't stress his importance to the Organisation.  
  
It was his choice what he wanted to do. Whatever happened to us was not of his concern, as a player who, at the end of the day, only cared about how much money was in his own wallet. If I could keep up with the other players, then I stood a reasonable chance in reaching my objective.  
  
If I was even a few seconds behind on each swing of the pendulum, then there was no chance I would be able to catch up.  
  
When I returned to my room once the mission had finished, I pop into the Grey Area like I normally did. Instead, I snatched the block of paper as I used my other hand to draw the chair out. I had learnt a lot this evening, and I didn't feel it right to forget about it in the morning.  
  
Roxas, Zexion, even Demyx. There was something about them that made them stand out more than anyone in the Organisation. Not the way Marluxia had, but in their own unique way. They didn't know fear, and most likely never had a chance to fully comprehend its power.  
  
Was it something to do with experience, I considered.  
  
As Zexion had said before I made him age, he didn't care about the consequences of his decision. Although he was young, he knew what he was doing. He hadn't considered the numerous consequences that I had thought of, instead facing the problem head-on. He didn't even want to know, I recalled. It was highly doubtful that it would have made any difference if I did list off my every concern.  
  
And Roxas. I smiled as I reflected on the recent mission. He was blissfully innocent of anything and everything. He knew his status, and didn't let it get to his head. He didn't boast his capabilities or treat me as beneath him. Yet that was what made it more dangerous – children, at some point or another, had to grow up.  
  
Ergo Demyx. He was impossible to understand fully, with a knack of being lazy. And, whilst adults know it is their responsibility to be punctual and do a good job, Demyx failed miserably at such a task and proved to be a liability. Despite that, he didn't bother changing his attitude when Saix lectured him or when his colleagues were paired with him, they often complained about his lack of involvement.  
  
I let my thoughts wander as I started writing. There was more to the problem than what the Superior was letting on. There was more to the heart than just emotions. It was about who we were before, and how essentially being immortal makes us lose more money than we thought. Would it have been better if we could choose how we are…for if we were stuck as this persona, never to exist in light or dark, would it be better if we were never born at all?  
  
_I find myself envying the children. Perhaps some fundamental difference exists between those who become Nobodies as adults and otherwise. The longer you have lived, the more you are positioned to lose with such a gamble. But a child can look forward, unafraid even in the face of immeasurable odds. I doubt they even see life as a gamble the way we do._  
  
That was it.  
  
I shot out of my room to the Grey Area, eager to tell someone of what I had realised. If told to risk their life, adults weigh the options rationally and consider things from a distance. With children though, they trust themselves more than anything. Impulsivity was deemed as a hindrance, but in their case, it wasn't. It fuelled them, and made the decision turn for the better.  
  
That was the difference between us. It wasn't age – it was mentality. And the more we had matured as Somebodies, it made the mentality of the Nobody counterparts a lot harder to manipulate and mould. We were unable to adapt to our surroundings, whereas children could.  
  
That was their trump card.  
  
The one who was the victim of my outburst was Xigbar, quite possibly the one person who would understand where I was coming from. Although our relationship was only mutual – like Axel – I could never be too careful around him, despite his nonchalant nature and light-handed remarks.  
  
"What are you trying to say?" Xigbar asked once I had finished. I wasn't one to ramble, so I didn't waste too much of his time.  
  
I smiled. I had phrased my theory in such a way that Zexion as his younger self wasn't involved. As far as the rest of the Organisation was concerned, Zexion had matured within the Organisation. I hadn't been witness to that, and that also made it harder to prove my theory had a solid foundation. "I'm saying that if the Organisation was run by teenagers rather than adults, it would be very different."  
  
To further my point, I summoned the King of Hearts along with the Ace. "There are different interests, as well as different viewpoints. When you were younger, what were you into?"  
  
Xigbar furrowed his eyebrows, his visible eye narrowing considerably. Judging from his body language, he didn't want to share.  
  
And I was quite content with that. "For me, I loved my family. I rarely thought of anything else but them, and as I grew up, that love depreciated at a rapid rate." Love from a businessman was distracting and made them lose sight of the goal. That one stuffy photograph of me and my father sprang to mind – no love, just a connection. "And now that we're living in this form, we had experienced the sense of leaving our old self behind that the children didn't have the chance to. That is what makes Roxas more volatile than us."  
  
My grin grew wider as I was welcomed by silence. For now, Roxas was being obedient to us, but for how long?  
  
That doubt was enough for me to be ahead of the pendulum, and for Xigbar to get left behind.


	38. The Last Rays of Day

_The air is charged. I can feel it. You go out on a big gamble at a time like this, and you're going to lose big. That said, it's betting against the worst odds that nets you the biggest win. I'm eager to see how this hand plays out._  
  
That was what I wrote on my memo block after my second and last mission with Roxas. I regretted writing so little now, but now that he had left the Organisation, it made me realise something.  
  
Everything had changed within the Organisation's walls. Saix spent more time with the Superior about what to do with Roxas, and Axel was often called in for a private chat. Xigbar, although not technically speaking the second in command, was naturally in the know of everything. Xaldin had progressively spent more and more time in Beast's Castle, to the point he was no longer interested in anything otherwise.  
  
Which meant that only Demyx and I were out of the loop about what was going to happen regarding Roxas. It therefore came as a surprise when Axel wanted a private word with me.  
  
I made him comfortable by inviting him to a tea house that was in Wonderland. Although perhaps tea house wasn't the right word – it was simply a large table outside a small-in-comparison cottage.  
  
As I busied myself with the teapot, I encouraged Axel to start by giving him a pointed look.  
  
"Saix wants me to eliminate Roxas."  
  
I let my eyes shut as I repeated the words again in my head. I counted to three and opened them again. "Will you do it?"  
  
Axel looked away hesitantly, resting an arm across the back of his chair. "I don't know. He's not who I knew him to be, but it makes it that much harder." He exhaled sharply. "I want things back the way they were."  
  
A small laugh escaped from my throat. "Don't we all?" I agreed as I replaced the teapot onto the surface and pondered over the white or brown sugar cubes. Strictly speaking, white was for tea and brown was for coffee. Yet there was the mild thrill of bending the rules for personal gain. "You never realise how valuable something or someone is until it's too late. Is there a reason as to why the Superior doesn't want him to return to us?"  
  
"That's…" Axel faltered, and I raised a hand in dismissal.  
  
"Classified, correct?" It certainly was hard being at the bottom of the food chain – only the bare minimum of the information was offered, so it was best that I didn't push my luck.  
  
The redhead nodded. "Yeah, something like that."  
  
"Therefore, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about? I hardly find that it's something that you could converse with the others if you're consulting me." I snatched the bowl containing the white sugar and arched an eyebrow at Axel as I held it slightly higher.  
  
"One please," he answered, once he had caught on what I was trying to suggest. "The reason why I wanted to talk to you is because you're the only one who could avoid…" He stopped abruptly as he saw me put one sugar cube in my tea, then another.  
  
I smiled somewhat. "Do continue, I'm listening." I had a vague feeling that this conversation needed something sweet to cheer me up. There was something about Axel that told me that he hadn't been getting much sleep recently, and it was undeniable that what was to come was the result of his worrying.  
  
"Well…" Axel rubbed at the back of his neck, struggling to pick up from where he left off. "I was wondering if it was possible for you to…alter the events to become something else."  
  
When hearing outlandish remarks, I was taught to treat them with care and turn them in the palm of my hand. Manipulate it into a matter more favourable to me and return it without a scratch. From my understanding, Axel wanted to, in any way possible, revert time. A grand feat I couldn't possibly accomplish without stepping on Zexion's memory.  
  
As part of the bargain, my part in making him age meant that my power was significantly reduced. It was a handicap I almost relished in, a chance to embrace my limited but harnessed power. As the boy lived his day-to-day life, I made the seconds on his internal body clock tick. By making controlled time surround him, others around him too remembered his physical development. And, when he died, my powers to this day still drained to his non-existent body to keep the very memory of him being Demyx's age going.  
  
By helping Axel and rewriting time again, it meant breaking my promise with Zexion. It was a huge risk, one where the jackpot was almost unobtainable. It wasn't one I could take on board without considering the serious repercussions it could have on me.  
  
"I can't do that," I said nonchalantly as I blew on the surface of the tea evenly.  
  
"Why not?" Axel was tetchy now. Clearly, he had already decided I would help.  
  
"Roxas' case is difficult." I chose my words carefully. Not to disagree with Axel's unreasonable request, but rather he was suggesting something that couldn't be done. "You may recall from the very start that Roxas was a clean slate. In a way, his fate was decided from that alone."  
  
Axel's skinny eyebrows furrowed. I studied his darkened shadows, green eyes that lost their previous shine, the pursed lips of someone anticipating a long lecture. His long fingers had found their way to the tea cup, but he made no move to drink the beverage.  
  
I maintained eye contact as I took the first daring sip of tea. Having two sugars really did take the flavour out. "Since his first day at the Organisation, he's been fed the belief that his efforts meant something. He would leave the castle, contribute a few hearts and follow a similar routine the next day. Somewhere along the lines, perhaps even he doesn't exactly know when, he began to truly think for himself. It's simply only now that the idea came into fruition."  
  
The redhead blinked slowly. "So on Roxas' end…"  
  
"It doesn't matter what I do," I completed with the smallest smile. Sympathetic, but not condescending. "It ultimately won't change the way Roxas is going to develop. If this is his answer to us, I haven't the power to alter that decision."  
  
It was unfortunate, but I had anticipated this from the start. The others had shaped him to become this way, and it was only a matter of time before he realised that the rules were rigged. Although I wasn't entirely comfortable with him leaving, I was glad he reached the decision through his will and his alone. The Organisation suffered a significant blow, but I will stand by his decision nevertheless. That was what I had promised him, even though he himself wasn't aware of it.  
  
"How about to something more recent," Axel tried next. "I think Roxas remembers me, even a little. Can't you make the Superior take a bit longer to reach his decision? Give me more time?"  
  
I laughed heartily. I was the one taking the backseat, and now I was to deal cheap cards to the Superior? "Once again, the state of the mind is a matter more complicated than I have control over. I can't affect the flow of their mentality as the subject is the one in charge of their own affairs. The outcome is inevitable – he will want Roxas eliminated. To present day, we underdogs don't know half of what's on his mind. What's to say that the second Roxas returns to our folds and completes Kingdom Hearts, the Superior wouldn't want him killed then?"  
  
Axel didn't reply, but I didn't need him to. That silence was all I needed to hear. "Of course, I don't know the exact nature of the order, so feel free to dismiss it." And, although I added the clause, I was fully aware Axel was no closer to brandishing it from his mind.  
  
"So there's nothing you can do?"  
  
I kept my gaze level. To look down at this point meant lack of self-confidence, anxiety and an easy target. In essence, to go against everything I had said up until now. To look up meant lack of compassion, an aspect that wasn't desired in this conversation. "Unfortunately no," I confirmed. "The mind works in mysterious ways. But if you want to change your current situation, you ought to sort it out in the present. Changing the past won't do anything whatsoever."  
  
Axel got onto his feet, finally setting the cup on the saucer without drinking a sip in the end. "As you've just proved. Thanks for hearing me out," he added flatly.  
  
His facial expression had turned from nervous to distant. He had placed all his faith with me, and that was exactly what he shouldn't have done. As he raised a hand to summon a portal, it was slight but I knew it was shaking. Like the dying embers of sunset, he lost the glow he normally flounced. He had lost the will to show off now no one was looking, lost the ferocity I still remember on our first mission together.  
  
All in all, it was a sorry sight to see. A sun surviving on the last of its flames, struggling to look alive. Axel was already dead inside, but kept going to make it look like he wasn't. It was all in those eyes – the look of distance that set its sights somewhere beyond what they could see.  
  
Even as Axel turned his back on me to depart, I didn't want him to leave like so.  
  
"If Roxas really remembers you, as you say, perhaps you could buy yourself more time." I took a leisurely sip of tea, and the lack of footsteps was enough to suggest Axel was listening. "It means burning your bridges with Saix by disobeying a direct order, but…" Upon establishing eye contact, I gave a sly smirk. "I'm sure you have no problem with that."  
  
Axel didn't move a muscle for a long while. Perhaps he was thinking of a good response, but he opted to let my suggestion linger as he went on his way without another word.  
  
I finished off my tea and got onto my feet. It was ironic, really. In the same way I had demanded information from Axel, he too had required my input. I didn't know to what extent I had helped him, but a cheat could only cheat so much before it all came back to him.  
  
I started to clear the table. Strictly speaking, the house didn't belong to anyone, but it still felt discourteous to use the tea service and not clear up afterwards.  
  
The last rays of day no longer touched the Organisation. Roxas was to be eliminated, and the inevitable plunge of darkness would come before long. The future certainly was bleak.


	39. Three Minutes to Nine

Although Roxas, despite Axel's efforts, was not strictly speaking eliminated, the Organisation made full use of his counterpart Sora. If the Keyblade was all that was required to complete Kingdom Hearts, there were other measures that could be taken. It was a plan that had been a reserve all this time, and had stayed as a reserve because Sora, who unlike us was in possession of a heart, was more volatile.  
  
The Superior soon forgot about Roxas, or rather chose to no longer mention. Our mission had changed slightly to be freelance work (much to Xaldin's liking), and the Superior had kindly mentioned to us that our time was near. We were assigned individual worlds so that we wouldn't tread on each other's toes, but other than that, it was entirely up to us how we make Sora capture the remaining hearts for us now Roxas was out of the picture.  
  
As a result, Saix rarely stood in the Grey Area handing out missions. He had now taken a leaf out of the Superior's book and was rarely seen outside the meetings that occasionally took place. The only time he would step out with his trusty clipboard was with Demyx, who would otherwise use the free time to not do much to contribute the final hearts needed to complete Kingdom Hearts.  
  
Tortuga almost felt like home. It was a bit unruly to my tastes, but a lot of the people there appreciated a good gamble as much as the next man. Complete strangers were more than obligatory to play against each other, betting with money, women or just about anything they had on their person.  
  
When being assigned a mission to a certain world, it was just as important to get a feel of what it was all about. Naturally, it made complete sense for me to blend in this place. It rung true to me, and undoubtedly anyone else would have been daunted by the idea of joining hands with pirates.  
  
I crossed one leg over the other as I observed the table. The opponent was roguish, but the crooked teeth revealed when he grinned made him surprisingly honest. One hand was on his bold hat, rich with plumage that was set to one side to reveal the straggly hair upon his handsome head. The other was loosely holding onto his upturned cup.  
  
Much like poker, liar's dice was all about deceit and bluffing. I had observed other players from a fair distance and had established the rules reasonably quickly.  
  
Most looked at under their cups to make a sensible assumption of what was on the table. But that was exactly what caused the lies to fall apart at the seams. By having knowledge of what one held, it made it impossible to deny it outright.  
  
The man realised this immediately as he jerked his head towards me. "Aren't ye going to take a look?"  
  
I raised my chin to challenge him. "My theory is that knowing one half of the puzzle can guarantee a win. However, the same can be applied to the other players. To bluff and trick the other, it's a reasonable feat to throw them off their game early on." I glanced a fleeting look at my own cup. "You'd be impressed how much of the game is set in the first five minutes of playing."  
  
At first, it was like the man hadn't understood a word I had said. Then, he gave a booming laugh that tore through the tavern. He snatched an apple from the fruit bowl, which even I knew was so unusually accommodating he must have ordered it. "You're an interesting lad. Ain't seen you round these parts – what be yer name?" he asked, biting down on the apple leisurely. He let his eyes shut, not even slightly bothered about the juice that was finding its way down his thin beard.  
  
"Luxord." I said my name rather freely – I had never had a true chance to introduce myself as my new name, and it felt good. Unlike what I had thought of the place, manners did exist here. "What about yourself?"  
  
The man didn't feel like finishing his mouthful before answering. "Call me Barbossa."  
  
"Barbossa," I repeated. It wasn't a habit of mine that meant I was slow in the head. It was a nice gesture to show that I had heard them, allowing people to correct me there and then, and also a good memory technique to associate name with face. "You would be right in thinking I'm not local. I'm passing through, but I'd be grateful if you could teach me about the culture."  
  
Barbossa laughed again. "Yer accent gives ye away. Do you take a shine to travelling?"  
  
"Something like that," I said, joining in the banter and cracking a smile. It was much too complicated to explain about Nobodies and dark corridors, and this conversation was ideally meant to be about me knowing more, not investing in a man I had just met. Pirates were honest, but that didn't mean they were to be trusted.  
  
"The thing about Tortuga is that there are no rules." Here he motioned behind him, where the main source of ruckus was. There were at least five fights going on, from men smashing beer bottles onto each other's heads to girls slapping one guy in particular. The band was barely audible above the simultaneous thuds of kegs banging into each other and the slurs of drunkards. "Each man to his own."  
  
I nodded slowly. "Are there any legal obligations you have to abide to? Some governmental body that supervises this area?"  
  
"You really know nothing about this side of the land," Barbossa said lightly. My naivety was right out in the open, but the man knew how to get about. He didn't look down upon my lack of knowledge – which perhaps implied that it was for the best. "We pirates pillage and plunder what we can. Tortuga is the hot spot, but the officials won't set their foot here – you know why?"  
  
I looked at the man getting slapped by three girls again. "That?"  
  
Barbossa followed my gaze and grinned enormously. "Exactly. We pirates are free men on the sea. We go where the wind takes us. The rules don't tell us where we can go, what we can do or what will happen to us. Such restraints only apply if you're stupid enough to get caught. But we needn't think such things until they befall us." He took another bite of his apple before continuing. "If there is one honourable thing between us pirates, that'd be the Pirate's Code."  
  
I arched an eyebrow in amusement. "So there is something."  
  
"Aye." Although my body wanted to do so, I refrained from wrinkling my nose as several bits of spit fell short of my own hand. "It's the only way pirates can get along. By invoking parley, a little guideline we follow, it ensures both parties benefit during negotiations and are both off limits to the other. But being pirates, there are always a few…certain loopholes."  
  
"In more detail, you mean to say that invoking parley guarantees the safety of both parties up until the terms are met?"  
  
Barbossa swung his apple by its stalk lightly. "Aye," he said again. "It was a rule devised from the fact that many of the crew would be sacrificed before one captain has the chance to hear out the other. Stating parley ceases all open fire and overall improves the pirating market. You wouldn't believe how irritating it is recruiting decent crewmates."  
  
I nodded. Now I had full understanding of the uses of parley, I could see why it may prove to be a valuable word to use later. Naturally, Sora being the sociable boy he was, he was almost certain to run into a citizen who would understand the same terminology as Barbossa. Without confronting Sora directly, I could easily get him to do the work expected of him so long as I had something he wanted.  
  
Barbossa pointed at my cup. "What be yer call? I'd quite like to have that watch of yours."  
  
As my end of the wager, I had put my father's watch into the pile. It felt like a just beginning – I had gotten into true gambling again, and there was nothing more ironic than using the object that started my path down the Silver Lynx's successor and the man who gave it to me. I didn't mind losing it. It was a chance for me to truly let go of my past and continue as a free man like the pirates here.  
  
The others at the Organisation desired their hearts more than anything. For me, I had simply enjoyed myself watching the hierarchy and learnt valuable lessons along the way. If I was to get my heart back, I wouldn't be Eon Green or King Ludor. Both paths were closed to me, and I had known that the very moment Xigbar had mentioned to me all that time ago that the Organisation could help me.  
  
Building my life on piracy with Barbossa…Now that brought a certain appeal that I wouldn't mind indulging in.  
  
I stroked at my stubble pensively. Five dice within my cup, five in his. Essentially ten objects each with the probability of a sixth of being a certain number. By knowing the hand one was holding, one could tell as to what level to bet at. But that was a double-edged sword, for they were on the more advantageous seat of the game.  
  
I deliberated through the figures, digging out the lost memories of my times at the casino. It had always been about killing heartless with cards and playing poker with the others – to play against a worthy opponent was one I had to relish in whilst I had the chance. "Four threes."  
  
The quirk of Barbossa's eyebrows spoke volumes. "Five threes," he said boldly. And, as he lifted up his cup, his toothy grin had turned into a sneer. "It pays to look, wouldn't yer agree?"  
  
And there, right on the table, was three threes. If I any more than one three, I would lose.  
  
I couldn't help but smile. "Perhaps you're being overconfident. You can't say you've won until you've seen everything." But my taunts could only go so far – I had no idea what my hand held, and what's more, the dice had already been cast. If I had already lost, there was nothing to change that fact.  
  
I knew I had lost even before I had the chance to check it for myself. Barbossa laughed callously, but it was all in good cheer rather than to spite me. Pirates were carefree people, and as he took his prize into his hands, the look of mild wonder was there in his eyes. The watch was expensive and hadn't ventured out of my coat for long, but the way it glistened was enough to catch Barbossa's eye. It didn't matter that it no longer worked and was forever stuck at three minutes to nine.  
  
His hands laden with dirt turned it over several times. "It doesn't work, but yer still hold onto it. Must tell some tale." He let it drop, holding onto the chain firmly as he let the watch bounce. "Are you sure you want to leave it at that?"  
  
I had already started putting my dice back into the cup again. I wasn't particularly bothered about the watch, for I knew Barbossa wanted to keep it at the end of the night, but I simply wanted to continue playing with him. By reaching a stalemate, a lot of useful conversation could come from it. By spending time with Barbossa, I could become closer to becoming a Tortuga citizen.  
  
Barbossa put his hat back on his head (his previous stake) and flicked the watch to land neatly at the centre of the table. I brought out yet another piece of junk as my wager: the Ace of Spades with the metal edges. It was just another part of my previous life in exchange for a new one on the broad horizon. I even accepted his offer of a pitcher of rum (or rather, he had ordered it without my consent and I didn't want to refuse his amicable gesture).  
  
He talked to me about his work, his personal principles and his own past adventures. When he told his story and successfully got through five apples at record speed, I fully understood why he could act the way he did. He was impulsive and calculating, but he knew exactly what he was after. Being on the brink of death, but not dying, for over ten years did that to him. And now, finally free of the curse that had befallen him and his crew, he could get about with his life. I could relate to surprisingly a lot of his tales.  
  
I promised Barbossa I'd play with him again soon, ending the game with the watch in the pirate's possession. What he would do with it was entirely up to him, but there were only a handful of things that lingered on my mind as I wandered down the cobbled road.  
  
Parley. Cursed treasure. Isla de Muerta. The Interceptor and the Black Pearl.  
  
I had gathered more information than I had hoped this evening. With this, it wouldn't be long before I could formulate a good plan to make the most of the Keyblade wielder Sora's talent. Much like the curse Barbossa had been consumed with, I too began to wonder about life beyond that of a Nobody. My intentions had stemmed from curiosity in the workings of the Organisation, how the Superior demanded respect and the workings from below.  
  
But as I walked down that cobbled street, perhaps it was time I really ought to think of the future.


	40. Diamonds Don't Last Forever

The events at Isla de Muerta worked to a certain extent. Through tact and playing the scheming pirate, I successfully made Sora donate a considerable amount of hearts to Kingdom Hearts. It was a standard plan, but from my research, Sora's weak spot was his comrades and the citizens. By utilising that, it was relatively easy to pull his strings the way I wanted to.  
  
Although my contribution, along with the others, was a decent effort, Saix was the one who bit off more than he could chew. Perhaps it was the long years of confinement that finally made him snap, those long years before he had taken that first step outside The World That Never Was, however he took matters more seriously than most. The quietest of the lot always turned out to be the most dangerous. He had wanted a heart more than anyone, although he was too proud to admit such a thing.  
  
By holding Sora's childhood friend hostage, he thought that he had the upper hand. However, by hitting home, Sora was more compelled to see us as enemies. If each member had stayed in the background and logically placed Heartless across the worlds, Kingdom Hearts may very well have been completed already. But that would make us a true team – a true team that consisted of many different people, with different methods and personalities that somehow worked in a synchronised manner. As the Organisation, we only had a common foundation, but that didn't mean that we worked in the same way.  
  
The others were felled one by one. Demyx, ever the wayward youth, met his end in Hollow Bastion. Xaldin, the most head-straight one of us all, was the next to go. Axel, the one who looked out for himself only, unpredictably incinerated himself within the Darkness. Xigbar, the man who couldn't miss his target, was struck down within the castle walls.  
  
Being Number X and the third to last one standing was nearly a miracle in itself. I had thought that it was supreme intervention from Lady Luck, but there was a limit to how much she could do to one man, especially one that had received too much of it in the past. By applying gambler's fallacy, was I the next one to be struck down by the weapon that was meant to be our salvation? Or will I be the surviving member that overturned the tables on the gullible?  
  
As I watched Sora and his merry bunch of misfits, I felt a small pang. They were quite the team, with children and animals alike in the mix. Even the traitor was amongst them, wearing the same coat as us and even with an appearance similar to that of the Superior. The girl, Kairi, had returned to their side, intact and without a single injury. Despite the happy reunion, they insisted on pressing forwards and obliterating us once and for all.  
  
And that was hardly what a King would do.  
  
All order had fallen apart even before Roxas left his subjects behind. Perhaps at first, we had all assumed that order couldn't be penetrated from the outside, however it was from within that the order had been disrupted. A group of underground louts and hooligans with no sense of order.  
  
The Organisation had lost their diamonds before the events at Castle Oblivion had transpired, maybe even before Marluxia had been accepted and sowed the seeds of his devious plans to stimulate what little life a Nobody could experience. There was little time to comprehend at what point the Organisation had fallen apart, other than the fact our downfall was inevitable. We had all strived for the same goal, but we were all too different to realise it was a feat that would never work.  
  
Children were bold and didn't think of matters as rationally as they ought to. Roxas probably didn't realise it, but a lot of us were jealous of his position. He had a Somebody to return to, someone alive and well enough to feel a heart beating against his sleeping form. Unlike the rest of us, he didn't live the life of a corpse. And rather than living the happy life elsewhere that I had hoped for, the Organisation was meeting their downfall for wanting to be complete. Too many had faded, too many wishes had been left unfulfilled.  
  
My mission of letting Roxas do as he wanted was successful, but from my perspective it wasn't right. He was destroying the casino that he was meant to inherit, and he didn't care that the father was still alive.  
  
Five full generations of handiwork, and he was shoving it back into our faces. The differences between me and him were laughable, and the number of times I had compared us in the past faltered into a mere memory.  
  
I disliked how, now that Roxas had everything, he would trample on those who had yet to. He had a complete lack of understanding to his subjects – it was one rule for the King, and not another look back at his past responsibility. Saving his own skin and smiting those that were beneath him.  
  
For someone who wasn't meant to feel, I honestly felt disappointed in him.  
  
As I watched the group of five across Havoc's Divide, intent on tracking me down to tie up the loose ends, I let out an exhale in preparation. If I was to disprove gambler's fallacy, now was the best time to do it. As Number X, I will be their next opponent. Should my end be nigh, I wanted to play by my rules right to the last second. I was unable to protect my comrades, but perhaps I could still protect Saix, the last one standing save for the Superior.  
  
Sora ran ahead of his friends, leaving a metre between them. That was more than enough for me to clear out the small game. A duel was better settled without the greenhorns asking for the rules again, better settled when two individuals of equal standing gave it their all with every chip scattered across the table. Let the roulette roll…Let the single zero spin and let our minds calculate.  
  
Only one of us would get the big prize.  
  
Sora stared at me in disbelief as I bade the cards behind me to spin faster and faster, his friends disappearing from sight. It wasn't anything life-threatening, I inwardly told him. It was just a polite invitation to tell them to take some time out. Although my power over time was severely limited, I could keep hold of his friends for a good while before the cards returned them in one piece where they had been before.  
  
It meant raising my stakes, but sometimes one had to find themselves in a corner before they had the drive and determination to win. By not knowing what the future held, the tiniest fluke could very well guarantee a victory.  
  
I couldn't afford to waste a second, and I cracked my biggest smile at the boy who had killed us all.  
  
"I rather we skip the formalities."


	41. Epilogue: Gambler of Fate

My life, both as a Nobody and a Somebody, was a distant past. I had taken a number of life lessons along the way, but each story reached a suitable conclusion. There was nothing for me to return to at the World That Never Was and nothing to keep me tied to Traverse Town. Barbossa was keen to have me on board, and both he and his crew were surprisingly accommodating about how little I spoke of myself. They were carefree, sailing the seas for the moment without knowing what the future held, and it wasn’t long before I too adopted that mind-set.  
  
Where my time wasn’t spent loading the cannons and delving in our new-found riches, we played cards all night long with a woman on each side. I still remembered how Joker would breathe softly by my face as we discussed tactics, and how Xigbar had jovially sloshed more beer at the table than practical considering the price. Although these moments were with me all the time, I didn’t feel I missed them. They were ghosts of my previous existence, and there was nothing more to it.  
  
Like all things though, I should have known that the past would catch up to me.  
  
I think that my attire had surprised Liam considerably, for as I beckoned for him to step out the tavern with me, he hardly seemed to recognise me. It didn’t sit right with me at first, but through the tailored suits and the Organisation coat, it was quite a relief to have such light items of clothing. They naturally got dirty from swabbing the decks and pub brawls, and no matter how often one changed them, it was always guaranteed to have some odd smell emitting from it. There always seemed to be gunpowder under my nails, nights I don't remember and waking up next to women I had never seen before, but I soon grew used to it.  
  
As I closed the door to the tavern, the ruckus didn't die down completely. I expect that Liam had returned much like I had, but I wasn't concerned about the details. It was easier to accept it in its entirety rather than waste time coming up with nonsensical theories. "Why are you here?"  
  
Liam snickered. "It's good to see you too."  
  
His voice was exactly how I remembered it to be, and yet that didn't arouse any sort of emotion. He had been dead to me for nearly a year, but I couldn't bring myself to greet him like an old friend. I was glad to see him well, or at least I thought I was, but more than anything I was frustrated. What gave him the right to appear before me, when I knew he was more than capable of destroying everything I had built since coming here?  
  
Fortunately, Liam was quick to pick up on my hostility. "Ultimately the reason I'm here is to make amends. Things haven't been easy for the pair of us, and if possible, I'd like to wipe the slate clean. I'm tired of lying, and I think you're tired of being dragged around."  
  
I narrowed my eyes considerably. I had forgotten how he had treated me during our time at the Organisation, but the memories were fast returning. I couldn't face yet another lifetime worrying about what Liam was going to do to himself next. I had finally relieved myself of that burden, and I didn't want to be drawn into the same game. "Are you saying you're feeling guilty?" Liam had never been so weak-minded, far from it. Was he trying to see how far he could push me into becoming his guardian again? "I've known you long enough to know you're rather incapable of thinking beyond yourself."  
  
Liam opened his mouth to retort a counter, but nothing came out. He looked away slightly, and in that moment, I saw the one thing Liam never showed: submission. He always had a plan up his sleeve, or at least he would have one in the near future. The way Liam was now though, he really did come to me with nothing on his mind. Did he really want to make amends, or was he only saying that to make him feel better about himself?  
  
I had learnt to truly disregard him. Much like the time when Charles showed up at the Silver Lynx, I was absolutely apathetic and had no intention to mend my bridges. It was an odd sense of déjà vu, almost a test of how much I had learnt since joining and dying in the Organisation.  
  
"You did well to save the rest of the Organisation," Liam said. "Your efforts after I left are commendable."  
  
I exhaled sharply. As expected with Liam, he really had left something for me to pick up from. I must have fulfilled his mission by chance, for I didn't have a hand to play with. "It was a coincidence, and probably one I had no part in. I'm intrigued though what mission you had in line for me."  
  
It had been a question I had constantly asked myself since Liam went to Castle Oblivion. If he really wanted to start afresh with no lies, that was the ultimate starting point. Liam shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but understand that it was because I couldn't. I needed you to be yourself. I was going to take down the Superior, and if I was to fail, I wanted you to pry everyone else from Xemnas one at a time."  
  
"Did you know what Xemnas was up to then?"  
  
Liam laughed softly, and I could gradually feel myself getting used to him. I had been angry at him for stringing me along, but Liam had taken his vow not to lie again so sincerely. "Of course not," he replied swiftly. "I just knew he was up to no good. Whilst Larxene and I were the 'bad sheep', you were the shepherd. Drawing people to your side has always been a talent of yours. You knew something was amiss the moment I died and you knew I was onto Xemnas. I just needed you to be natural and integrate with the others. It was a job only you could do."  
  
I folded my arms in thought. Liam had put an awful lot of faith in me, more than I deserved. I could see the logic why he had kept everything secret, but a part of me still wasn't satisfied with his answer. I had been used, and no sense of goodness could come out of that.  
  
"Our mission is not yet finished though," Liam continued. "Although the Organisation may have disbanded and Xemnas' plan hasn't succeeded, he'll continue until he does. Everyone's waiting for us at Radiant Garden. Come with me, Jack."  
  
Although we were strictly speaking our Somebodies again, I pursed my lips at the sound of my old name. "The name's still Luxord." It was how I introduced myself to Barbossa, and it seemed easier at the time.  
  
Liam didn't seem very impressed by this at all. "If you're still using the name he gave you, he will find you."  
  
I knew that Liam was genuinely concerned about me, but I burst out in laughter before I realised. Perhaps I really did drink a bit more than I should have done. "Let him. My days are numbered anyway, it's not like he's going to ruin anything for me."  
  
In a way, I relished in how the tables had turned. Liam was now trying to warn me of the impending doom, but Tortuga had completely turned my life around. I really didn't care about the Organisation anymore, or what happened now that Xemnas had or hadn't completed his grand objective. As far as I knew, it was not my concern anymore.  
  
"I've made a life here, Liam. I'd rather fold while I can." If Liam was going to fight in the battle ahead, that would be more than enough support. I didn't know what use I would be, but it was a game I didn't want to get involved in.  
  
Liam sighed. "I have no right to force you, but you know where to find us if you have second thoughts. It means a lot that I can clear matters up with you. I can only hope that you'll forgive me for my actions."  
  
I had taken the view that Liam was telling the truth and his sincerity was more than I had anticipated, but it would take me more than a single conversation to forgive him. I had seen him as a friend and I watched out for him, but I had grown weary of being three steps behind him.  
  
Liam raised an arm to summon a portal. Although we were Somebodies, we still seemed to possess our attributes and power over darkness. "Before I go, Ienzo – that is, Zexion – told me to tell you something."  
  
I narrowed my eyes. Was this going to be another guilt trick, like when he had apparently passed on a message from Charles? I knew now that was a lie, but was he so desperate to pull the same stunt twice? "And what might that be?"  
  
Liam tilted his head to one side. "He said that you can let go. I assume that means something to you, because it means nothing to me."  
  
I repeated the words under my breath, and the ambiguity of the message was enough to reassure me it was genuine. I knew instantly what Ienzo must have meant, and I wanted to know how he was so sure. If I severed my link with Ienzo, what would happen to the aging process during his time at the Organisation? Would all that remain intact, or would it revert to the previous timeline?  
  
"It does," I confirmed. Ienzo had trusted me to make him age. If he was absolutely sure that I could claim back my ability over time, then I will honour that decision. Ienzo was too smart for his own good, and by all accounts he was just as aware of the risks.  
  
Liam gave a curt nod. "Take care of yourself."  
  
I couldn't resist the temptation as I flashed my usual grin. "I always do. I'll say the same to you."


End file.
